The Ghost Who Loved An Angel
by AngelofMusic8578
Summary: Sequel to Monsieur and Madame le Fantôme. Erik and his wife have a child, but what happens when Daddy Phantom discovers his heir is romantically involved with the child of Raoul and Christine de Chagny? ALWbased.
1. A Ghost is Born

**Angel: Screw it! The Closet fic is taking too long to finish. Therefore, I am posting this story _now_. So, yay! Erik and Fantine are back!**

**Erik: (_unenthusiastically_) Oh joy, oh bliss…**

**Angel: I'm so glad I can finally post this! I'm really proud of this story, guys. I think I like this one better than the prequel!**

**Erik: I'd like a root canal better than the prequel…**

**Angel: You're so negative! Well, anyway, I won't be updating _everyday_ on this one. I'll probably only go once a week until the last chapter of my closet fic is finished. But don't worry, you won't have to wait _three months_ for an update on this one. I promise! **

**Enjoy!**

_**1. A Ghost is Born**_

Erik grasped his wife's hand. "It's alright, Fantine! I'm here!"

Fantine lay with her head propped up against her pillows. Locks of black hair were plastered to her distorted forehead as she gritted her teeth against the painful task of childbearing. Meg Romard and Madame Giry sat before her spread legs.

"You're doing fine, Fantine," Madame Giry said. "Come now… Push!"

Fantine pushed hard and let out a gasping breath. "Erik, darling? Do me a favour… Get me a bottle of brandy!"

"I thought you gave up drinking, Fantine," Erik smirked.

"Wait… Wait, Fanny!" Meg cried excitedly. "I can see the baby's head… It has a full head of black hair!"

"Don't call him 'It', Meggy," Fantine protested. "He's a boy… I know it…"

"Well, we'll see, Fantine," Madame Giry said.

Fantine looked up at Erik. "I want to name him Elijah… after my Papa!" Then her face twisted as her body was hit with another wave of pain. She screamed out.

"Erik, she needs room to breath!" Madame Giry said, nudging him away. "Give her a little space…"

Erik reluctantly moved away, standing in the corner of the room. Fantine screamed painfully. Erik squeezed his eyes shut. He hated seeing her in pain. He had caused her enough pain already…

"_Stop it_," Erik scolded himself. "_Stop feeling sorry for yourself_!_ Not now_._ Not when your wife needs you_._ Besides_,_ Fantine has already forgiven you for that_!"

Seven years earlier, Fantine had been a skilled ballerina working at the Opera Populaire. But she had been in an accident… one that Erik had caused… The night that Erik had dropped the chandelier during the performance of _Don Juan Triumphant_, Fantine had been performing. She had been caught in the flames. Her once-beautiful face was burned beyond recognition. Erik had left the Opera Populaire that night to live the life of a vagrant far from the city of Paris. Fantine had lost her job at the theatre and broke her engagement to a lawyer named Albert. Madame Giry had led Fantine to Erik's abandoned lair, where she lived comfortably for the next five years as the new Phantom of the Opera.

Erik then returned, finding his home invaded by this female. He reluctantly made a bargain with her, agreeing to work as her partner within the theatre and share the lair with her. It was a difficult change for Erik, sharing his theatre with another ghost. She annoyed him so much! He found her reckless, uncouth, and ill-tempered. Yet through it all, Erik was somehow able to relate to her. However, Fantine had been preoccupied pursuing a chorus boy, Robert Romard, who later proposed to Meg Giry. Later Erik discovered that Meg had been Fantine's friend before the chandelier crash, as had been Christine Daaé!

It took a long time, but Erik and Fantine finally admitted that they loved each other and wanted to spend their lives together.

"_Fantine forgave me after she found out about what I did_," Erik thought. "_Sometimes it_'_s still hard for me to forgive **myself**_…"

They had been married only two years before Fantine conceived his child. He remembered that day as well as if it were only yesterday…

XxXxX

_Nine months earlier_…

Erik entered the kitchen to find Fantine preparing tea. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, just watching her.

Fantine looked up and met his gaze. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

"No… no, nothing," Erik said softly, not moving from his position. "It's just… You're the most beautiful creature I've ever seen…"

Fantine smiled modestly. "You are without a doubt the most biased man on the face of the earth." She picked up his cup and moved towards him. "I swear I'll never learn how to make your tea right, but I'll settle for 'it's the thought that counts.' How you stand this stuff, I'll never know. Far too strong for me. Have you ever thought of trying one of my green teas? They're quite good for you and – oh!" Fantine suddenly clutched her stomach. The cup in her hand slipped from her grasp and shattered on the floor, spilling its hot contents.

"Fantine!" Erik cried. "Are you alright?"

Fantine put a hand to her forehead. "Yes… No… My stomach hurts… Oh, it hurts! I feel so dizzy…" Fantine's eyes rolled back into her head. Erik was at her side in an instant and caught her before she could faint to the floor.

"Fantine?" Erik called to her desperately. Fantine's eyes flickered opened. Erik noticed that her pupils were dilating. She struggled to focus on his face.

"Erik? Oh… I'm gonna be sick!"

Erik took her into his arms and carried her to the lakeshore where he helped her lean over to throw up. When she was finished, Erik carried her to their bedroom and laid her down on their bed.

"I am going to get Mesdames Giry and Romard and bring them down here," Erik told his wife as he reached for his cloak. "They can have a look at you and decide if you need to see a doctor."

"Oh, Erik, it's nothing," Fantine insisted weakly. "Indigestion… Food poisoning, maybe… I'm a horrible cook. I must not have prepared that sausage properly last night…"

"The sausage was fine," Erik retorted. "Besides, I'd rather err on the side of caution with you. Just in case it's something more serious…"

Erik left the lair and found Madame Giry and Meg quickly. He hurriedly brought them back to his home to where Fantine was still laying on their bed.

"My dear," Madame Giry spoke softly. "How do you feel?"

"Better," Fantine replied. "A little queasy still… But at least the room has stopped spinning…"

Meg turned to Erik. "It'd probably be best if you left the room while we examine her…"

"But–"

"Please, Erik?" Meg implored him. "It's for the best…"

Erik reluctantly left the room. While he waited he returned to the kitchen and cleaned up the mess on the floor. Then he made some more tea for himself and paced impatiently. He hated not knowing what was wrong with his wife. He hated being left in suspense. He had never felt so helpless. So utterly unable to help her.

After three cups of tea, he finally heard the door to his room open. His first impulse was to run to his wife. To find out what was wrong. But fear kept him frozen in place.

What if Fantine had some horrible, dreaded disease? Vomiting and stomach cramps were symptoms of influenza. The flu could be deadly. With such a virus, death could come in a matter of weeks.

Erik couldn't handle it. He couldn't look into the stricken faces of Madame Giry and Meg when they told him that his wife was dying. He just couldn't! He couldn't stand the prospect of living without his Fantine. She was his whole life!

Erik stood planted, his hands gripping the kitchen countertop. A moment later, he heard Madame Giry approach. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to face her.

Madame Giry didn't look sombre. In fact, she seemed almost… happy! Her eyes seemed to glow as she looked at him.

"H-h-how is she?" Erik managed.

"Your wife would like to see you in your bedroom," she smiled at him.

Erik raised an eyebrow. "_This hardly seems like the time to be getting frisky_," he mused.

"Meg and I shall leave you now," Madame Giry curtsied as she headed for the lakeshore. As Erik made his way to his room, he saw Meg already waiting for her mother by the boat. She beamed when she saw him.

"_Why is everyone smiling at me_?" Erik wondered. He paused before the door to his room. Taking a breath and steeling his nerve, he entered.

Fantine sat on the edge of their bed, hands folded in her lap. She smiled radiantly as Erik entered.

"Are… are you well?" Erik asked.

"Yes and no," Fantine answered. She patted the bed beside her. "Sit."

Erik obeyed, nervous about what she was going to tell him.

"Erik…" she began. "Remember how we vowed to share our lives together… till death do we part?"

Erik's throat tightened. "Y-yes…" he whispered, afraid of what was coming next.

Fantine continued. "I want you to know now that I will always keep my vow… I want to share our lives together everyday, for the rest of our lives… And now… Now another life shall become a part of that vow…"

Erik furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"Erik, when we married… did you ever think of sharing a family with me?"

Erik hesitated, licking his dry lips. "I… I don't know… I suppose I never really thought about it…"

Fantine took his hands into hers. "Then let me ask you now… Do you want to? Do you want to raise a family with me? Do you want to have… children?"

"_Children_?" Erik breathed. He could hardly believe it. Here was his Fantine, asking him to be the father of her children?

"Do you want a child to become a part of our life together?" Fantine asked again.

Erik paused. Then he slowly nodded. "Yes… yes, I would like to have children with you…" Then realization began to dawn on Erik. His eyes widened. "Are you asking me this because you're already…?" he trailed off.

Fantine smiled, eyes shining. She nodded her head vigorously.

Erik dropped her hands, staring at her. "You're… You're…? With _my_…?"

"Yes, Erik… I am…"

Erik turned his gaze from her and stared out into space. "You're… You're certain?"

Fantine was growing nervous about Erik's lack of enthusiasm over her revelation. "Well… yes…" she replied. "I… I haven't had my… my monthly… I'm over three weeks late… I didn't think anything of it, but… the dizzy spells and nausea… they're all symptoms of morning sickness, and… well… you must admit, it isn't totally _impossible_… We have had… you know… in bed?" She trailed off, blushing slightly.

Erik sat stock-still gripping the edge of the bed. He simply stared at the floor. His face was expressionless.

Fantine bit her lip with worry. Was he not pleased? He just finished saying that he wanted to have children with her! Maybe he wasn't ready yet? Or had he only said what he thought would please her? Perhaps he really didn't want a child after all?

Then an elated smile broke out onto Erik's face. He threw his arms around her waist and pulled her to her feet. She squealed like a schoolgirl as he picked her up and swung her around.

"We're having a child?" he said excitedly when he finally settled her on her feet. He buried his face in the hollow of her neck while he let one hand lay reverently on her abdomen.

Fantine nodded, relieved that he really was glad to hear that she was expecting.

"Say it for me," he whispered into her hair.

"I'm pregnant, Erik," she whispered into his ear.

"Say it again," he commanded, kissing her throat.

"I'm carrying your child," she breathed. "_Our_ child… A beautiful baby… A little miracle…"

Erik caressed her stomach and lifted his face to claim her lips with his own.

"I love you so much," Erik whispered as he laid Fantine back onto the bed. He laid atop her, supporting his weight on his arms to keep from harming her or their unborn child. He kissed her hard and passionately, caressing her body with his hands, trying to show her just how much he loved her.

"Wait," Erik said suddenly, breaking his lips from hers. "Can we really… raise a child down here? And what of the theatre? You won't be able to come to the surface in your condition. And it's going to be difficult playing the role of a Phantom with a baby on your hip. And what about–?"

"You talk too much," Fantine said, pulling his face down into another heated kiss.

When Erik finally separated himself from her, he looked at her seriously. "But can we really do this? I don't know the first thing about raising a child! And the lair… the baby would need a room and a crib and–"

"For Heaven's sake Erik, I'm not giving birth tomorrow!" Fantine cried. "We have nearly nine months to make sure everything is ready for our child…" She smiled up at him. "And don't worry… you will be an excellent father… I know you'll love our child, and he'll love you dearly…"

"So, I see you've already decided you're bearing me a son," Erik smirked.

"Mother knows," Fantine grinned.

Erik lay beside his wife and gathered her form against himself. One arm slipped beneath her and held her hand while the other slipped over her waist, letting his palm rest against her stomach where his child was growing.

"I love you, Erik…" Fantine whispered before drifting to sleep.

Erik nuzzled her hair and sighed contentedly. "I love you, Fantine… My angel… My joy… My life…"

XxXxX

_Seven months later_…

"Erik!" Fantine shook Erik awake. He rubbed his bleary eyes and sat up.

"What is it, darling?" he groaned.

"The baby wants something!"

Erik looked over at his wife. Fantine was seven months pregnant now. Her belly was quite swollen, but she looked lovely in the black silk maternity nightgown that Erik had bought for her. Even her scarred face held the glow that all expectant mothers have. Erik thought she had never looked more beautiful.

As her pregnancy progressed, Erik found himself growing more and more protective of his wife. He constantly worried about her health and the health of their unborn child. He had told Fantine that if she needed something during the night, she was to wake him immediately. However, he was beginning to regret telling her that.

"What does the baby need?" Erik yawned.

"Eggs."

Erik gaped at her. "At this hour?"

Fantine pouted and stroked her abdomen. "The baby's hungry."

Erik sighed as he got out of bed and reached for his robe. "Very well… I'll cook up some eggs…"

"Scrambled, please," Fantine said.

"Alright."

"With cream."

"Fine."

"On toast."

"As you wish." He turned to leave.

"Erik!"

He turned to face her. "Yes?"

"Make sure you butter the toast, first. The baby doesn't want dry toast."

"Very well." He turned to leave again.

"And Erik?"

"Yes?"

"Can I have pepper on my eggs?"

"Of course." He left the room.

"Erik!"

Erik came back. "What?"

"I changed my mind… No cream in the eggs… Oh, and while I'm waiting, could you please bring me a dish of cashews?"

Erik leaned against the doorframe. "I'm not going to get any sleep tonight, am I?"

Fantine smirked at him. "You think it's bad now?"

XxXxX

Erik's thoughts were interrupted by a lusty wail coming from between Fantine's legs.

"Come out, little one," Madame Giry murmured. "Come out and see the world…"

Fantine's face was soaked with sweat. "I… I can't… do this… anymore…" she gasped. "Hurts… too painful…"

"You're almost there, Fanny!" Meg encouraged her friend. "Just one more push!"

Fantine gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut. She gave one more hard push and Madame Giry pulled a slimy, bawling bundle from Fantine's body.

"Come Meg, let's clean him up…" Madame Giry and Meg took the child over to a wash basin at the other side of the room and went to work. Erik craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the baby over the women's shoulders. Meg finally turned around with a bundle of blankets in her arms. She immediately went back to Fantine and smiled as she placed the package in the tired girl's arms.

"Congratulations, Mama," Meg beamed. "It's a boy!"

"Told you so!" Fantine smirked. She gazed lovingly at the child's face. "Hello, little one…"

Erik stood fidgeting in the corner of the room. He wanted to see his baby, but he was determined not to interrupt the sacred moment between mother and child.

Fantine smiled. "He looks just like his father…"

Erik went rigid as his heart nearly stopped beating. Surely the child wasn't deformed, like him? Surely he wasn't born with the same terrible curse that had deprived Erik of a mother's love?

Erik felt his stomach twist into a knot. Nine months of pregnancy and it didn't occur to him until now that his child could be born a disfigured monster like him. It was actually quite probable. The child had Erik's imperfect blood in him. And what would that mean for the boy? He would live his whole life in seclusion, hiding his face from the world. And the boy just might blame Erik for his plight… for his bad blood…

"Erik?" Madame Giry said softly. "Would you like to see your son?" Without waiting for an answer, Madame Giry took the child from Fantine and advanced upon Erik.

Erik stiffened. He had never held a child before. What if he dropped him?

Madame Giry noticed Erik's discomfort. "Erik? Are you alright?"

"I… I don't want to break him…" he whispered.

Madame smiled. "It's alright to be nervous." She moved close to Erik, shifting the bundle into his arms. "Here, support his head like this… that's right… put your hand under him… very good…"

Erik stood breathless with the delicate bundle in his powerful arms. He closed his eyes for a moment before looking at his son for the first time. He needed to prepare himself for what he might see.

"_He will be loved_," Erik decided. "_Even if he is disfigured_,_ I will love him_,_ and Fantine will love him_._ He will never be alone_._ I will always protect him from the world_…" With such thoughts in his mind, Erik opened his eyes and gazed at the baby's face.

The very second Erik opened his eyes and looked upon his son for the first time, he was hopelessly in love. This, he knew, really was love at first sight. He swore he didn't ever want to stop holding his child. His heart was bursting with what Erik decided could only be pride. He had created a child! A miracle! Surely this was his greatest masterpiece. His magnum opus. It actually took a moment for Erik to register the boy's appearance.

The child was pale, like him. He had a bit of black fuzz on his head that served as hair. But his face was smooth and soft… a perfect face…

The child yawned, making a soft squeaking noise. He opened his eyes, gazing up at the man who held him. Erik noticed that the boy's eyes were the same piercing blue as his own.

"He… he _does_ look like me!" Erik exclaimed.

Madame Giry smiled. "Congratulations, Erik… How does it feel to be a Papa?"

Erik did not answer. He moved over to the other side of the room where Fantine laid on the bed. He crouched by her side.

"He's so beautiful, Fantine," he whispered, holding his son so that she could see him too. "He'll have your smile. I can tell."

Fantine caressed the child's perfect face. "He has your eyes…"

Erik was silent for a moment. "He's not like us… He is perfect… The world will not look upon him in fear…" His eyes appeared almost sad. "What if he fears me? What if he is disgusted by me… his hideous parent?"

Fantine touched his arm. "He will see you as I do."

Erik met her gaze. "And how do you see me?"

"As a kind man with a good heart… Someone to look up to… It's in your soul that your true beauty lies…"

Erik said nothing, but turned back to gaze into his son's blue depths.

"Hello, Elijah," he whispered. "I am your father…"

XxXxX

**Angel: Love it? Hate it? Let me know!**

**Erik: I hate it...**

**Angel: Well, no one cares about your opinion, so neh!**

**Erik: I'm hurt...**

**Angel: Want me to kiss you better?**

**Erik: _NOOOOOOOOO_!**


	2. The Son of the Phantom

**Angel: Yay! Another chapter to the sequel!**

**Erik: I can't believe you wasted half a year writing _this_.**

**Angel: Hope you love it!**

**_2. The Son of the Phantom_**

"Eli, it's time for your lessons!" Erik called.

Erik waited a few moments. Finally, nine-year-old Elijah made his way over to where Erik stood in his study.

"What took you so long, Eli?"

"Sorry, Papa," the boy said, taking a seat at the table on the other side of the room. "I have not been quite myself today…"

Erik took note of the Eli's comment, but waved it off as no cause for concern. "Your books are there… Study your lessons, now…"

Erik and Fantine had been home-schooling the boy since he was three years old and Eli had proved to be as bright as his father. Arithmetic was a challenge, but already he could read and write at an advanced level. Erik was even beginning to introduce the boy to French history and some basic music theory.

Erik watched Eli intently as the boy studied his books. Eli seemed to be having some difficulty concentrating. He fidgeted in his seat. Erik noted that the boy had been reading the same page for almost twenty minutes.

Not quite himself? Now that was an understatement!

"Son, is there something wrong?" Erik asked finally.

Eli squirmed in his seat a little and stared at the floor.

"Papa? Are… Are there _ghosts_ in the opera house?"

Erik hesitated. Eli knew nothing of what he and Fantine did in the hours they spent outside the lair. "Why do you ask that, Eli?"

Eli met his father's gaze. "I… I was playing on the roof, yesterday," he explained. "And… two ballerinas came…"

"Did you hide?" Erik pressed. Eli was allowed to play on the roof by himself at times, but he was told that he must never be seen by anyone.

"I… I tried," Eli whispered. "But they saw me. They wanted to know why I was there. They wouldn't leave me alone! I told them to go away…"

"What happened?" Erik asked.

"They… they said that I was a bad boy and that the opera ghosts would get me." Eli looked up at his father with wide eyes. "I'm scared, Papa… Are there really ghosts in the theatre?"

Erik sighed. Eli was old enough now, he decided. He should know.

"Yes and no, Eli. You see, your mama and I… we… well, we _pretend_ to be ghosts and we haunt this theatre."

Eli furrowed his brow. "But… why?"

"Well… it's… like our job… Only no one knows that we're not really ghosts. Do you understand?"

Eli was quiet for a minute. "Papa? What does… de… def… orm… _deformed_ mean?"

Erik's breath caught in his throat. "What?"

"The ballerinas said that the ghosts were deformed… Are you and Mama… deformed?"

Erik closed his eyes. He and Fantine never wore their masks in the lair anymore. Eli was used to seeing their faces. They were _normal_ to him. He knew no one else, other than Madame Giry and the Romard family, who came to visit on occasion.

"Eli… Your mama and I _are_ deformed… It's… well… we don't _look_ like other people…"

"Am I deformed too?"

"No, Eli. You are fine. You are _normal_. Your mama and I… we're _not_ normal. We are… different… People are afraid of us. That's why we live down here. That's why we pretend to be ghosts." Erik exhaled heavily and walked over to his desk, picking up his mask. "This is what I have to wear when I leave our home… So no one can see… Eli, someday you will grow up and you'll begin to see the world above… You will hear people say terrible things about your mama and I… most of them probably made-up or rumour." He put a reassuring had on his son's shoulder. "But do not let their words trouble you. Don't fear any ghosts… because the only ghosts here are your mama and I… and we would never hurt you." Erik turned his gaze to the piece of leather in his hands. "Your lessons are cut short today. I have things to do. Run along now, and stay out of sight."

Erik left the boy alone to ponder the things he had just heard. His parents were ghosts… or at least everyone believed they were ghosts. Why? Just because they looked different. Because people were afraid of them. How could that be? _He_ was not afraid of his parents. His mother always told him stories and she never missed the chance to give him a hug or a kiss. He looked up to his father, who seemed so strong and so wise. And at night, if Eli was having trouble sleeping, his father would sing to him until he finally dozed off. How could _anyone_ be afraid of his parents? They were such wonderful, loving people!

"_I_'_m the son of ghosts_," Eli realized. "_People will be afraid of **me** too_!" The boy hung his head. He used to dream of one day leaving the lair and making friends with someone in the world above. How he wanted a friend. But who would be friends with a ghost-child?

Eli raised his head. When he grew up, he had wanted to be a composer like his father. Perhaps that was not his destiny. Perhaps someday he would be expected to carry on his father's legacy – as the new Phantom of the Opera.

An idea occurred to Eli at that time. "I will make you proud, Papa… just watch!"

Eli snuck out of the lair and up to the roof. From there, he knew of a way to get down to the backstage area of the Opera Populaire. He had never been there before. All he knew of the opera house was the lair and the roof. But it was an adventure that Eli was more than willing to undertake. It would be exciting, and he knew he would gain much knowledge from the experience. He was, after all, his father's son.

First, there had been the Phantom of the Opera… Then there was Lady Phantom… Now, the people of Paris were about to tremble before a new spectre – the Son of the Phantom…

XxXxX

Firmin and Andre grinned eagerly at the man who sat before them in their office.

"I must say," Firmin said, "it will be a pleasure to do business with you again, Monsieur le Vicomte."

Raoul offered a light smile. "Well, my wife seems to miss it here… She had a hard time during the early years of our marriage. I should have thought about returning here a long time ago, really." Raoul's expression grew serious as he leaned forward in his seat. "I do have one concern, though… About this Opera Ghost…"

Firmin dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "Don't fear for the Vicomtesse," he said reassuringly. "Lady Phantom is no doubt keeping him _very_ busy, if you know what I mean…" Firmin winked.

Raoul furrowed his brow. "Lady Phantom? What are you talking about?"

Andre stared at him incredulously. "You mean you never heard? Really, I thought the gossip would have reached you by now!"

Raoul opened his mouth to respond when a little blonde head poked her face inside the door. "Papa, Mama's talking to a bunch of ballerinas… I'm bored!"

Andre peered at the sweet little face. "Who's this?"

Raoul sighed. "My daughter – Rose de Chagny…"

Rose glanced around the small office. "What's going on in here?"

"Monsieur Firmin and Monsieur Andre were just about to tell me a ghost story…"

"A ghost story?" Rose exclaimed. "Excellent! I love ghost stories!" She hopped onto her father's lap. "Let's hear it!"

Raoul sighed and stroked the girl's hair. "Alright, messieurs… What has the Opera Ghost been up to lately?"

"Well," Firmin began. "Eleven years ago, this house was doing a production of _Il Muto_. Meg Giry – er, _Madame_ _Romard_ – was starring in it. Then, in the middle of the performance, we hear this terrible voice spout something off about miscasting and disobeying orders, even though we _did_ follow the Phantom's instructions concerning the performance in one of his more-recent letters. Then, next we know, there are two black figures on the stage – a man and a woman! And get this – she starts to pummel him right there in front of everyone! When we demand an explanation, he takes her hand and announces to everyone that she is his _wife_!"

"After that they seemed to disappear," Andre said. "Then at the New Year's Eve Masquerade, they suddenly reappear, and they're screaming at each other at the top of the grand staircase. Something about vagrants and whores… Anyway, they request that the house perform _Don Juan Triumphant_, starring Robert Romard and Meg Giry… Next thing we know, the Phantom grabs his wife and starts kissing her like his life depends on it!" He made a face. "It was rather improper, if you ask me…"

"Well, a month later," Firmin continued, "the house performs _Don Juan Triumphant_, and who's singing the lead roles? Monsieur and Madame le Fantôme! Then Monsieur Romard runs out onto the stage and knocks the Phantom out by hitting him over the head! Then Lady Phantom runs off with the boy. We take the Phantom into our office here and sit him down until he wakes up. Then he runs out, saying something about having to stop her. The two seem to have been a model couple ever since."

"So, they haunt this theatre _together_?" Raoul asked.

"As husband and wife," Andre confirmed.

Rose scoffed. "You call _that_ a ghost story?"

Raoul smirked. "Forgive me… She's nine going on nineteen…"

"That story made no sense at all!" Rose said, crossing her arms.

"_True_ stories rarely do," Andre said.

Before his daughter could say anything else, Raoul slipped her off his lap. "Run along, Rose… Find something to do…"

"There _is_ nothing to do here!" she protested as she walked out the door. "There's no one here to play with!"

"I apologize," Raoul said when she was gone. "Moving away from the country and coming here has been stressful for her." He sighed. "I just wish she could make a friend…"

XxXxX

**Angel: Your thoughts, Erik?**

**Erik: I let my kid play on a roof all alone?**

**Angel: Point taken. Anything else?**

**Erik: I hate the Fop.**

**Angel: Yeah, me too... Well, it's a fanfiction sin to read and not review! So throw me a bone!**


	3. Beautiful Faces

**Angel: We're back!**

**Erik: No duh.**

**Fantine: I'm here too!**

**Erik: What are _you_ doing here?**

**Fantine: Hi, Mom!**

**Angel: Enjoy the chapter!**

_**3. Beautiful Faces**_

Eli prowled about in the backstage area of the Opera Populaire. The ballerinas would begin their rehearsal soon. When they did, Eli intended to prove that he _was_ indeed his father's son. He grinned to himself as he imagined the dancers twirling about on the stage. Then out of nowhere, a black shadow appears! The dancers scream and scatter. "_Help_!_ It_'_s the Phantom_'_s Son_!"

He was going to enjoy this…

Eli's thoughts were interrupted when he heard a pretty little voice echo throughout the auditorium. "**_Think of me_._ Think of me fondly when we_'_ve said good_-_bye_…**"

Eli peeked out from his hiding place behind the curtain to see a pretty blonde girl climbing onto the stage. The song she sang was lovely, and Eli found himself captivated. He watched her as she stood up on the stage and sang to a make-believe audience.

"**_Think of all the things we_'_ve shared and seen_…_ Don_'_t think about the way things might have been_…**"

Eli was so wrapped up in the girl's voice that he hadn't noticed that his feet were tangled in a piece of spare rope. He went to take a step, lost his balance, and fell back onto his rear with a loud crash.

Eli grumbled and tried to untangle his feet.

"What are you doing?"

Eli looked up. The pretty girl he had been observing earlier pushed back the curtain and was peering down at him.

"I… I'm lurking!" Eli said.

She cocked her head to one side. "You look like you're sitting."

"Well… You're distracting me!" Eli said indignantly.

She bent down and helped him untangle his feet. "Why are you lurking back here?" she asked.

"Well," Eli said. "I'm a ghost."

She snorted. "You don't look like a ghost!"

"Well… my parents are both ghosts… so I'm a ghost, too!"

"Your parents are ghosts?" she exclaimed. "Are they the same ghosts who haunt this theatre?"

"Of course they are!" Eli said. "Who else?"

"I just heard a story about them!"

"My Papa says that most of the stories are just made-up!"

She nodded. "Probably… It was a dumb story…" She held out a hand and helped him up. "My name is Rose de Chagny. What's yours?"

"Elijah. But my Mama and Papa call me 'Eli.'"

"Elijah, what?"

He blinked. "What?"

"You didn't tell me your _last_ name!"

"I… I don't have a last name…"

"Oh… Alright, just _Eli_, then…" She hesitated. "What do you do for fun around here, anyway? I've been bored to tears since I got here!"

"Well… I scare people!"

Rose wrinkled her nose. "That sounds boring!"

"It is not!" Eli protested. Though after only a few hours on the job, Eli had discovered that haunting a theatre _was_ a little tedious.

"We must think of a fun game to play," Rose said. "Hmm… I know! Let's play hide-and-seek!"

Eli stared at her. "Hide-and-what?"

Rose looked at him incredulously. "You've never heard of hide-and-seek?"

Eli shook his head.

Rose sighed. "Oh, brother… Alright, here's how it goes… You close your eyes and count to ten while I hide."

"Why do you want to hide?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "It's part of the game! When you're done counting, you come and find me."

"Then what's the point of hiding if I'm just going to find you?"

"Because," Rose said, "it's _fun_!" She sighed. "Just close your eyes and start counting!"

Eli did so, wondering if playing with this girl was such a good idea. He had a feeling that they were headed for trouble…

XxXxX

An hour later, Erik stood in the shadows backstage, watching the ballerinas at their rehearsal. Actually, they weren't rehearsing. Madame Giry and Madame Romard – Meg began working as assistant ballet mistress after she married Robert – were both called away to the managers' office momentarily, and so the ballerinas were taking the opportunity to catch up on their gossip.

"He's hideously deformed," one ballerina said darkly.

"_Ahh_, _another ghost story_," Erik smiled to himself. "_How I do enjoy these_…"

"They say that many years ago he murdered a dancer. But he kept her soul to himself, making her his eternal bride. Even now he still lurks about the theatre. And he only comes out to satiate his hunger… for ballerina flesh!" The dramatic ending earned a squeal from several girls.

"The Opera Ghost is always good for a laugh," one ballerina grinned.

"Makes working here a whole lot more interesting!"

Another ballerina stepped forward to share a story. "I hear that he's the son of the Devil himself!"

"_Well_, _you shouldn_'_t believe everything you hear_, _my dear_," Erik threw his voice so that it seemed to come from all directions. There were several terrified shrieks.

"_Don_'_t even think of running_," Erik spoke coolly from his hiding place backstage. "_Because I **will** catch you_."

"He's going to kill us all!" Erik's sensitive ears heard one ballerina whisper to another.

"_Mademoiselle_," Erik addressed the girl. "_No offence_, _but shut up_."

The girl passed out into her friend's arms.

"_It seems you ballet rats have forgotten your place_," Erik said, his voice echoing throughout the auditorium. "_So shall I reinforce a few things_? _You work for this theatre_… _Therefore_, _you work for **me**_. _So we_'_ll_ _start seeing a little more respect around here_, _shall we_?" Erik smirked to himself and spoke smoothly. "_There will be no more gossiping about me or my family during rehearsal_. _Save that for your spare time_. _I want rehearsals to be about one thing and one thing only_: **_dancing_**! _Your performances have been deplorable as of late_. _I want to see your full effort at every rehearsal to bring the standard back up_. _Also_, _I want there to be no more smoking or drinking in **my** theatre_! _I am disgusted with the number of empty bottles and cigar butts I see lying around_! _I prefer this building to remain sanitary_!" He paused for effect. "_Any questions_?"

The deathly silence was music to his ears.

"_Very good_… _Have a productive rehearsal_…" He slipped away unseen.

"We'll have no more problems with bad-mouthed ballerinas," Erik chuckled to himself.

Erik made his way into the hallway, heading for what used to be Christine's dressing room. From there, he would return to the lair.

Fantine met him halfway. "Erik! Have you seen Eli?"

"I thought he was in the lair with you."

"He isn't!"

"What about the roof?"

"I checked!"

Erik's eyes grew wide. "But… where could he have gone?"

A split-second later, they heard a high-pitched squeal followed by childish laughter. They turned towards the sound. Down the adjacent hall, they saw a flash of blonde hair being pursued by a black shadow.

"Eli!" Fantine cried out.

The two phantoms ran off in pursuit of their child.

XxXxX

"Raoul!" Christine de Chagny called to her husband as she saw him walking down the hall. "Have you seen Rose?"

"I was just looking for her. She's probably off playing somewhere."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than did Rose round the corner, almost knocking her parents down. She was red in the face and breathless. "Mama? Papa?"

A second later, Eli appeared and grabbed hold of Rose. "I got you!" After a few rounds of hide-and-seek, the children had begun a game of tag. Eli had never had so much fun!

"Who are you?" Christine demanded of Eli.

The little boy looked up at her with clear blue eyes.

Very _familiar_ blue eyes…

"Oh, God…" Christine whispered.

Seconds later, Erik and Fantine rounded the corner and froze in their tracks. The four adults stopped and stared. After sixteen long years, the worst of enemies faced each other once again…

XxXxX

**Angel: DUN DUN DUN!**

**Erik: Ooh, I am intrigued.**

**Fantine: Leave a review, or I shall hunt you down and kill you in your sleep! Muhaha!**

**Erik: You're sick.**

**Fantine: I know.**


	4. Long Time, No See

Angel: Since yesterday was such a cliffie, I figured it was only fair that I update today. 

**Erik: Kill the Fop.**

**Fantine: Thank you to everyone who reviewed.**

**Angel: Enjoy the chapter!**

_**4. Long Time, No See**_

The Phantoms and the de Chagnys stared at each other. Their children stood between them with confused expressions on their faces.

"What are _you_ doing here?" the four adults said at once.

"Mama? Papa?" Eli said nervously. "Who are those people?"

"Are those your parents?" Rose whispered to Eli, gazing up in fearful wonder at the masked man and woman.

Raoul grabbed his daughter's arm and pulled her away from the boy. "Stay away from her, you little freak!" he spat.

Erik bristled. "That '_little freak_' is my son!" he shouted, his hand instinctively reaching for the noose on his belt.

"Erik, don't!" Fantine cried, grabbing his hand. He met her gaze, and immediately understood.

Not in front of Eli…

"Your _son_?" Christine exclaimed. She glared at Fantine. "You little whore!"

Fantine clenched her teeth and balled her hands into fists. But it was Erik who spoke.

"You're a fine one to talk, Christine de Chagny!" he growled at her.

"No doubt you seduced _her_ and stole her away, just as you had tried to do with Christine!" Raoul accused Erik. "And I'll venture to guess that you have been keeping her all to yourself in that cave of yours, forcing her to comply with your twisted desires!"

"I did no such thing!" Erik snarled.

"We are guilty of nothing more than trying to raise a family!" Fantine added.

"Well, I'll bet the little apple didn't fall far from the tree!" Raoul cast his scornful gaze down at Eli. "He grabbed my daughter! I'll bet the little monster wanted to drag her off to your dungeon! Like father, like son!"

"My boy would never try that!" Erik growled. "No doubt your little hussy provoked him!"

"Don't you dare call her that!" Christine yelled at him.

"Oh, why not, Christine?" Fantine sneered. "Like mother, like daughter, after all!"

"Shut your mouth, _ghost_!"

"Oh, and who's going to make me?" Fantine asked mockingly. "_You_?"

Raoul stooped down and picked Rose up, hugging her to his chest. "You keep your little monster away from our daughter!"

"Gladly!" Erik said, grabbing Eli's arm and pulling him away from the de Chagnys. "And I trust you'll keep your little brat out of his way!"

"Don't worry! We _will_!" Raoul and Christine turned and stormed away from the Phantoms. Erik and Fantine turned and headed for their lair.

"Wait!" Rose called. "Eli!"

Eli paused and looked back at her warm brown eyes. Erik tugged on the boy's arm.

"Let's go!"

Eli followed his parents to their lair underground, losing sight of the only one who had ever been a friend to him.

XxXxX

"Papa! He wasn't hurting me!" Rose protested when the de Chagnys had returned to their home. "We were just playing!"

"I don't want you playing with the likes of him!" Raoul said. "He's bound to be trouble!"

"You don't even know him!" Rose cried. "I do! He's my friend!"

"He is _not_ your friend!" Raoul snapped.

"You said you wanted me to make friends with other children here," Rose said. "I have! Why can't I be his friend?"

"Darling, you _will_ make friends," Christine said. "You just can't be friends with _him_. Anyone but _him_!"

"Why _not_?" Rose demanded.

"Because he comes from a bad family! He's bound to be just like his parents! He'll be a bad influence on you, Rose."

"It's not fair!" Rose cried. "You just don't want me to have any friends! You want me to be all alone!" Rose stormed away to her room in tears.

Christine's shoulders slumped and she gazed at her husband. "Raoul, I'm scared… I don't want Rose seeing that boy… But as long as she's here, I fear he'll try to see her again… Oh, it's exactly what happened sixteen years ago! He won't stop until he has her! He'll be just like his father, I know it!"

"We could leave, Christine," Raoul said quietly. "Get her away from the opera house… Save her from that family… It would be the wise thing to do…"

Christine stared at the floor. "Yes… It would be…"

"But," Raoul said, cupping Christine's cheek in his hand, "I don't want to make you leave if you really wish to stay…"

Christine swallowed. "I… I won't lie… I miss this place…"

Raoul nodded. "I only fear that the Phantom will try to take you away again…"

Christine shook her head. "He won't do that… He already has his bride…" Christine closed her eyes and recalled that night eleven years ago when she had returned to her Angel of Music. She and Raoul had been going through a rough patch in their marriage, and Christine had foolishly thought that she should return to the Phantom's arms. But he had dodged her every advance. He told her that he did not want her anymore… that he was in love with someone else.

That 'someone else' turned out to be her childhood friend, Fantine Chalifoux! The girl discovered Christine attempting to kiss the Phantom. Fantine had responded violently, to say the least. The Phantom had stopped her from harming Christine severely, but not before receiving a hard slap across the face. Christine supposed that Fantine had thought that the Phantom was willingly participating in the embrace. No doubt that little scene had caused a few problems in the relationship.

"_No **serious** problems_, _though_," Christine mused. "_They_'_re married now_!_ They have a child_!"

No… The Phantom would not be interested in having Christine back…

The boy, however, was another problem…

"Perhaps," Raoul began slowly, "perhaps we should send Rose away to a boarding school… Just to keep her safe from him…"

"S-send her away?" Christine whispered.

"It's the only way she'll be safe."

Christine inhaled deeply, then closed her eyes. "Alright… If it saves her from them… We'll do it…"

Raoul nodded. "For Rose…"

XxXxX

"What in the cosmos possessed you to go gallivanting about up there?" Erik shouted at Eli back in the lair.

"I was just trying to be a ghost, like you and Mama," Eli muttered.

"You are not a ghost, yet!" Fantine said. "You don't know the first thing about _being_ a ghost! You should not have left the lair without telling someone!"

"Furthermore, I told you to stay out of sight!" Erik raged. "I fail to see how that translates into playing with some viscount's daughter!"

"She is my friend!" Eli said.

"Not anymore, she isn't!" Erik snapped. "I don't want you near that girl ever again!"

"_Why_?" Eli shouted. "Why can't I have a friend? Why do I have to stay down here? Why do I have to live my life all alone like _you_?"

Erik turned his back on the boy, his teeth clenched. "That's just the way things are!" he responded.

"That isn't fair!"

"_Life_ is unfair! The sooner you accept that, the better!"

"That's not good enough!" Eli yelled at Erik's back. "Why can't I be friends with Rose de Chagny?"

Erik whirled on the boy. "Because I am your father and I _said so_!"

Eli's blue eyes turned to ice as he glared at Erik. "I hate you!" With that, Eli turned and stalked off to his room.

Erik stared after the boy, too stunned by his words to move or even speak. Fantine stood in silence. After a long moment, she approached Erik.

"Darling–"

"Don't."

Fantine sighed. "He didn't mean it. You know he didn't. He was just upset."

Erik gave a humourless laugh. "It seems he's inherited my temper. Not a very admirable trait." He turned to look at his wife. "You know makes me angrier? That I can't even give Eli a good reason _why_ he can't see that girl."

"He wouldn't understand," Fantine said softly, rubbing his shoulders. "You're just doing what's best for him. You heard what her parents called him… Little freak… Little monster… He's not even deformed like us, and yet they still judge him! He deserves a normal life, Erik… But you know as well as I do that the world up there will never accept him. They don't see him for who he is. All they see is his ghost parents."

"Are you trying to make me feel better?" Erik asked grimly.

"Is it not working?"

"No."

Fantine shrugged. "Fine, then. Be a miserable wretch. _I_'_m_ certainly not going to fret over this situation. Everything will be fine."

Erik turned to face her. "You know, sometimes I don't know whether you're optimistic or if you simply don't care at all."

Fantine's gaze turned to ice. "Now, don't _you_ accuse me of not _caring_!" she growled. "I _do_ care! I just have a little faith, is all!"

Erik smirked. "You know, you're absolutely lovely when you're angry."

Fantine sneered. "Oh, don't even think about trying to be cute with me right now, Monsieur!"

Erik laughed. "Always a feisty one! That's what I love about you."

"Really? I thought it was my classic beauty that won your heart."

"Among other things."

Fantine smirked. "I'll see you in the bedroom, darling… And don't worry about Eli. He may be angry with you right now, but he loves you."

Erik sighed as he gazed at his son's bedroom door.

"_He could have a full_,_ happy life_…" Erik thought. "_The only one keeping him down here is me_…"

XxXxX

**Angel: Erik… Fantine… What are your thoughts?**

**Erik: It sucked.**

**Fantine: I rather liked it. Except you make me sound like a frickin' Sue!**

**Angel: Sorry, dear. You're a mother now.**

**Fantine: Can I swear?**

**Angel: No.**

**Fantine: Can I _please_ kill someone?**

**Angel: No!**

**Fantine: Can I at least maul somebody? Preferably Erik?**

**Angel: I'm sorry, but I've taken away your wild streak! You're a parental figure now.**

**Fantine: I hate you.**

**Angel: I know.**


	5. Hello, Old Friend

**Angel: Thank you everyone for your lovely reviews!**

**Fantine: Can someone please send _me_ popcorn? Erik won't share!**

**Erik: (_Hugs popcorn protectively_) You'll get your _female_ germs all over it!**

**Fantine: Chauvinistic pig.**

**Angel: Enjoy!**

_**5. Hello, Old Friend**_

_Seven Years Later_…

Sixteen-year-old Eli donned his cloak as he left his room. He paused, taking a deep breath before entering his father's study.

His father sat at his desk, writing. Theatre business, no doubt. The house was preparing to show the opera _Hannibal_, and Erik had been observing the cast for the past several days. Casting was always a slow, tedious process, and one that Erik took very seriously. He would be occupied for several hours, Eli knew. Then his gaze fell to his mother, who was curled up on the couch with a book. Erik liked having her nearby when making casting decisions, just in case he needed her opinion or advice. Breathing deeply, Eli turned to his father again.

"Sir?"

Erik looked up from his work. "Yes, son?"

"I'm going to the surface. I'll be back this afternoon."

Erik nodded. "Very well."

Eli turned with a swirl of his cloak and headed for the boat. Erik gazed after him.

"When did he start doing that?"

Fantine looked up from her book. "When did he start doing what?"

"When did he start telling _me_ what he's going to do? And when the Hell did he start calling me '_sir_?'"

Fantine turned back to her book. "Somewhere between twelve and thirteen."

"Well, I hate it!" Erik said. "He makes me feel like an old wretch!"

"Well, you're no spring chicken, Erik." From the corner of her eye she caught Erik's smirk. She looked up at him. "What?"

"No spring chicken?" he grinned. "That's not what you said _last_ _night_!"

Fantine smirked. "Well, you might not be so youthful anymore, but I must admit, you haven't lost your vigour."

Erik turned back to his work. "A shame my time has been so used-up lately… But you know how casting is…"

"You should get Eli to help you."

"Believe me, I think the boy would rather chew his own arm off."

Fantine shrugged. "Well, he's going to have to learn how to do it…"

Erik glanced at her. "And why exactly is that?"

She looked up at him. "You're not going to be doing this forever… When you _finally_ retire, he's going to have to learn to take over the responsibilities."

Erik looked away, not saying anything.

Fantine cocked her head, gazing at him. "Erik?"

"Sorry… I just hate making Eli feel obligated to…"

"To take your place as the Phantom of the Opera?" Fantine finished for him. "It's all we have to offer him, Erik. It's the only inheritance that we can give. He'll do fine."

"But what if he doesn't want to be_ me_?" Erik asked. "I… I don't want to see him end up all alone."

Fantine sighed. "You found happiness, Erik… eventually… So will Eli."

"Are you so sure? Or are you just being optimistic again?"

Fantine stood up and walked over to where Erik sat at his desk. "Don't fret about it, Erik. Eli has already expressed his anticipation of carrying on your legacy. Really, he _wants_ to please you. He _wants_ to make you proud."

Erik raised his eyes and looked into Fantine's face. "I know he does… But is it truly what he really _wants_ for himself?"

XxXxX

Eli slipped into the shadows of Box Five. The ballerinas were at rehearsal. In recent years, Eli had found that he rather enjoyed watching the scantily clad girls twirl about on the stage. His father would always scoff and mutter something about raging teenage hormones.

Eli sighed. He and his father had drifted apart over the course of the past several years. Sometimes he wished that it were not so hard for him to talk to Erik. But the man seemed to look down upon him. Eli knew that his father did not think he was capable of carrying on the family torch… He knew that Erik saw him as a reckless, irresponsible teenager. Maybe he was. But Eli wished that, just once, he could do something right by his father. He wished that, for just one small moment, Erik could be proud of him.

Wishful thinking, he knew. It took a lot to impress Erik. Eli feared that he would never be the heir that Erik truly wanted.

"Come this way, my dear…"

Eli heard Madame Giry's voice. She was talking to someone. A girl, by sounds of things. And from Madame's tone, Eli guessed that the girl was a new ballerina.

"Ladies," Madame Giry addressed the girls who were practicing on the stage. "May I have your attention, please? Thank you. I'd like to introduce to you the newest member of the ballet corps. Mademoiselle Rose de Chagny."

Eli jumped to his feet.

Rose de Chagny!

He had not forgotten her name. No, he had thought about her every single day since he first met her seven years ago! She was the only person who had ever been a friend to him. Gazing out from his hiding place, Eli caught a glimpse of her.

She had grown up beautifully! Her blonde hair fell about her shoulders in perfect ringlets. Her lips were full and looked so soft. Her fair skin was smooth and without flaw. She had high, elegant cheekbones and a fine, sloping forehead, and warm brown eyes that sparkled.

Eli had to tear his gaze away from her and move back into the shadows. He did not want to be seen.

"It is a pleasure to be here."

Eli's breath caught in his throat when he heard her voice. She had the voice of an _angel_.

Slipping out of Box Five, Eli blended into the shadows and began formulating a plot in his mind on arranging for a meeting with his old friend.

But first, he had to know just how much the other ballet rats would tell Rose about him and his family… And just how much she would believe…

XxXxX

"As long as my daughter is here, I would prefer it if you stopped giving into his whims!" the Vicomte de Chagny growled at Firmin and Andre as he stood in their office.

"I'm afraid that will be quite impossible," Firmin said. "You saw what happened all those years ago when we disobeyed him… Disasters!"

"You don't understand!" Raoul cried. "The Phantom is _not_ a ghost! Do you hear me? He is simply a man!"

Andre grinned knowingly. "Of course he is."

"Wait a minute," Raoul said slowly. "You mean… you _know_ he isn't a real ghost?"

"Ghosts don't procreate," Firmin said. "Any fool knows that!" He looked at the Vicomte seriously. "But just because he is a man, that doesn't make him any less dangerous. He's a clever fellow. He can make bad things happen if he is angry. And he is quite the magician, too! He can disappear and remain unseen for as long as he wants. It would be impossible to catch him."

"Besides," Andre added, "his presence is good for business. The Opera Populaire is world-famous! And why? Not because our operas are any better than those seen and heard in Venice or London or even America! It's because this theatre is haunted! Patrons come from all over in the hopes that the Phantom will make an appearance. Everyone wants to see a ghost!"

"Did you hear about that scandal in one of the opera houses in Frankfurt?" Firmin asked. "A man was arrested for pretending to be ghost and frightening the patrons. It was later discovered that the man worked for that very same theatre! The managers were paying him to masquerade as a phantom in the hopes that it would boost the theatre's popularity. Some say they got the idea from reading about the Opera Populaire," Firmin said proudly.

Raoul gritted his teeth. "If you _know_ he is simply a man, then why haven't you called in the police to arrest him? These threats are unacceptable!"

Andre laughed. "If _you_ wish to call in the police, be our guest! No officer will go down to the cellars in search of a ghost. No one _has_ looked for him since the Great Disaster."

"And he is not threatening," Firmin said. "He is simply… _firm_. As long as we do what he asks, he lets us be. In return, we get free publicity! It's a fine exchange."

"But his so-called salary!" Raoul cried. "Twenty thousand francs a month?"

"Twenty-five thousand, actually," Firmin said. "He requested a raise after his wife gave birth."

"_Twenty_-_five_?" Raoul repeated. "That's absurd!"

"But we more than make up for the lost money with all the business he brings in," Andre said. "Believe me, profits would be far less if we didn't play by his rules."

"But aren't you perturbed in the slightest?" Raoul asked, feeling that he was fighting a losing battle. "Doesn't it bother you that another man is telling you how to run _your_ theatre?"

Firmin shrugged. "My partner and I have but one objective in mind – to make money. If we have to give into one man's eccentric little idiosyncrasies to achieve that goal, then I say so be it!"

Raoul sighed. "Well, what about my daughter? I'd prefer it if she were not led to believe that her employers can be so easily swayed."

Andre waved it off. "Believe me, dear Vicomte, _no one_ knows about our… _financial obligations_. As long as the Opera Ghost is happy, then our employees are happy, and that generally makes our audiences happy, which makes _us_ happy… I'm sure you follow the cycle."

Raoul stormed out of the office more frustrated than ever. How could anyone be so content to cooperate with a man such as the Phantom? A fraud… a madman… a murderer?

XxXxX

An hour later, Eli sat curled up in the ceiling above the ballerinas' sleeping quarters. Erik had long ago shown Eli all the different hiding places within the theatre. He had explained to him the importance of being able to see and hear what went on in _every_ room of the Opera Populaire – yes, even the girls' sleeping quarters. He had also shown Eli several quick escape routes back to the lair, just in case an emergency arose.

He heard the patter of dozens of small feet, followed by the chattering and gossiping of the girls in the room below him.

Finally, Eli heard someone address Rose. "Rose, where exactly are you from?"

"Well," Rose began. "I actually used to live with my parents, right here in the city. The Vicomte and Vicomtesse de Chagny?"

"Your father is the managers' business partner!"

"Yes. He is."

Eli felt his temper flare a bit when he thought of Rose's parents. They had taken her away from him. Sent her away, as he had later discovered. They had treated him like he was some kind of monster. He had just been a young boy! All he had wanted was a friend! But they scorned him… because of who his parents were…

Eli still puzzled over how his parents knew a viscount and his wife. He had brought it up a few times, but his father always evaded the question, coldly informing him that it was a thing of the past. His mother was not much help either, telling him that Erik did not want her to speak about it. She always said that she didn't know much, anyway.

"I guess your parents wanted you to be more involved with the theatre too, didn't they?" one ballerina said to Rose.

"Well, I was away at boarding school for a long time, but I really wanted to come back home again. I begged my parents to let me join the ballet corps. It took a little convincing, but they finally caved. I still think they'd rather I'd have stayed at school, though. I can't imagine why."

"Maybe they were afraid the Phantom Clan would get you!" one ballerina laughed.

"That old ghost story?" Rose asked. "I heard it once. A long time ago. Perhaps you'd like to treat me to another rendition of it?"

"Gladly!" the ballerina said, always eager to tell a story. "Years ago, when the Opera Populaire was first built, the workers stumbled upon the tomb of an old man…"

"_Wrong_…" Eli thought. "_That is so wrong_…_ Father told me himself that the theatre stands over what used to be a strip of company offices and coffee houses_…"

"Little did those workers know that the body was that of a vicious murderer…" the ballerina continued.

"_My father is no murderer_… _He would never intentionally harm anyone_,_ despite what his notes say_…"

"The workers did not bother removing the bones, but merely built the opera house right over top of the old tomb. The spirit of that murderer awoke, angered at being disturbed. When the Opera Populaire was completed, the evil spirit made it clear to the people of Paris that the theatre belonged to him, as it stood over his final place of rest. He became known as the Phantom of the Opera. He made demands, requesting a monthly salary and the use of Box Five, that he might watch every opera the house put on. If his commands were ignored, he would kill again! One such unfortunate soul was Joseph Buquet. He used to be a stagehand. But the pitiful man caught a glimpse of the Phantom's face, which was horribly decayed and rotting – the corpse's face. As punishment, the Phantom killed him with his Punjab lasso!"

Eli rolled his eyes. Yes, he had seen his father's Punjab lasso, but Erik only carried it for protection.

"Then one day, a beautiful, skilled ballerina caught the Phantom's eye. He lusted after her, and resolved to make her his eternal bride. When, at last, the beautiful girl was alone, the Phantom murdered her, keeping her spirit to himself. In his presence, her beautiful face faded away and became as hideous and repulsive as his own."

Eli had to stifle a laugh. His mother, beautiful? He loved her dearly, but she was _no_ gorgeous dancer!

"The Phantom and his wife had a child…"

Eli pressed his ear against the wood of the ceiling. This was his favourite part of all the stories.

"The Son of the Phantom was born, even uglier than his parents!"

Eli scoffed. His face was quite normal! Though, he still wore one of his father's old masks, just in case someone saw him. Somehow, a barefaced ghost just wouldn't be intimidating. Better that he remained mysterious.

"The Son of the Phantom still seeks out a bride… So we girls must always be on our guard, or we just might suffer the same fate as Lady Phantom did at the hands of the Opera Ghost!"

"Keep your hand at the level of your eyes!" another ballerina finished the story.

Eli still never understood that phrase. But every ghost story ended with it, and it always earned a delighted shriek or two from the other dancers.

Eli slipped out of his hiding place. He wanted to talk to Rose, but it had to be alone. If she was anything like the girl she was seven years ago, Eli knew of a place where he might catch her alone.

XxXxX

**Angel: What do you think, Erik?**

**Erik: He's turning into a stalker!**

**Fantine: Oh, well that would make him a regular chip off the old stone, wouldn't it?**

**Erik: Shouldn't you be sitting in the lair, child-rearing and stoking a fire?**

**Fantine: Ah, so you're one of those men who think all women should be barefoot and pregnant?**

**Erik: No, I encourage women to wear shoes.**

**Eli: No wonder I don't have any friends…**


	6. I Thought of You

**Angel: We're back!**

**Fantine: _Guess who's back? Back again? Angel's back! Tell a friend!_**

**Erik: I hate it when you sing.**

**Fantine: I hate it when you breathe.**

**Angel: Enjoy the chapter!**

**_6. I Thought of You_**

"Erik? Fanny?"

Erik looked up from his work as he heard Meg Romard's voice echo through the lair.

"Ah, it seems the Romards have come to visit…" he murmured.

Fantine looked up from her book. "It's Thursday, Erik… They always come for tea at four o'clock on Thursday…"

"You'll have to entertain alone today, I'm afraid," Erik said. "I have to finish this."

Fantine stood up. "Can't you take a break?"

"Why, certainly," Erik smiled mischievously. "You and I shall take a break later tonight…" He winked at her.

Fantine smirked. "I'll tell the Romards you're busy…" She donned her mask and left the study. She entered the main room just as Robert was helping Meg step from the boat.

"Meggy… Robert…" Fantine smiled. "So kind of you to join us… or _me_, rather… Erik is a little preoccupied at the moment."

Meg smiled and nodded her head. "I should expect that the managers will be receiving casting instructions any day now…"

Robert looked around the room. "Where is that boy of yours?"

"He said he'd be up on the surface playing ghost, but it is probably more accurate to say that he was being the regular peeping-tom at your ballet rehearsal today."

"Really?" Meg arched an eyebrow. "I didn't know he was the type…"

Fantine smirked. "You have _no_ idea how much he enjoys watching your rehearsals." She shrugged. "Though, perhaps what really fascinates him is watching you shout at lazy dancers…"

Meg smiled. "Just trying to live up to my mother's reputation…"

Madame Giry had retired five years earlier, which made Meg the new full-time ballet mistress.

Fantine entered the kitchen and put on a kettle of tea. "Where is your daughter?" she asked.

"Rachel wanted to go for a buggy ride with some friends today," Robert explained. Then he frowned. "I'll bet that foolish David went with them!"

"David?" Fantine repeated. "Does your daughter have a love-interest?"

Meg grinned. "David Cormier… He really is a charming boy, but Robert doesn't like him very much."

"That boy will be nothing but trouble," Robert declared. "I know his kind… He'd run after any pretty thing on two legs!"

"Oh, come now," Meg said. "He seems so nice."

"Obviously you don't see the way he looks at our daughter," Robert muttered.

Fantine shrugged. "Rachel is only fourteen. It's not like you have marriage proposals to worry about."

"Well, what about Elijah?" Robert asked, wanting to change the subject. "Any special girl in his life at the moment?"

Fantine shook her head. "Erik and I don't anticipate having to worry about him bringing lady-friends home any time soon."

"Really?" Meg said. "Why ever not? He's really quite a handsome boy, and sixteen years old! Isn't it time he started courting?"

Fantine looked at her incredulously. "Don't you think that would be little awkward? Girls aren't exactly lining up to be the new love interest for the Son of the Phantom. If that title isn't enough to frighten them off, the prospect of meeting his _parents_ certainly would!"

Meg sighed. "I suppose you're right… He's not resentful, is he?"

Fantine shook her head. "Of course not! I'm sure the _last_ thing on Eli's mind right now is running around with some girl. What's he going to do? Hold secret rendezvous' behind our backs?"

XxXxX

Eli stood up in the catwalks over the stage. It was starting to get late in the day. If he was gone from the lair much longer, he feared that his father would come searching.

"_I wish Father would just trust me_,_ sometimes_," Eli thought bitterly. "_Why do I always have to tell him where I_'_m going_?_ What I_'_m doing_?_ How long I_'_ll be gone_? _I_'_m not a child anymore_._ I wish he could see that_."

Eli's thoughts were interrupted when he heard a beautiful voice… And he knew immediately whose voice it was.

"**_Think of me_**, **_think of me fondly_**, **_when we_'_ve_ _said good_-_bye_. _Remember me once in a while_. _Please promise me_ _you_'_ll_ _try_.**"

"_Oh_,_ I_'_ve thought of you everyday_,_ Rose_…" Eli thought. "_But we never did get to say good_-_bye_,_ did we_?"

"**_When you find that_, _once again_, _you long to take your heart back and be free_, _if you ever find a moment_, _spare a thought for me_.**"

Rose became visible on the stage below him. Eli felt his heart jump. It was the closest he had ever been to her in seven years.

"**_We never said our love was evergreen_, _or as unchanging as the sea_. _But if you can still remember_,_ stop and think of me_…**"

"_I thought of you_,_ Rose_…_ Did you think of me_?"

"**_Think of all the things we_'_ve_ _shared and seen_. _Don_'_t_ _think about the way things might have been_…**"

"_The time we shared was precious to me_…_ Perhaps it was only a brief moment in your full_,_ happy life_…_ But in my dark_,_ it stands out in all of my memories as the only time I ever felt **normal**_."

"**_Think of me_, _think of me waking_, _silent and resigned_. _Imagine me_, _trying too hard to put you from my mind_.**"

"_Please say you didn_'_t forget me_…_ Please say you remember_…"

"**_Recall those days_, _look back on all those times_, _think of the things we_'_ll never do_. _There will never be a day when I won_'_t_ _think of you_…**"

Eli took a step, with the intention of going down to the stage. But he couldn't move his foot. Looking down, he realized that a bit of spare rope had entangled itself around his ankle. Grumbling, he tried to shake it off. But he only succeeded in losing his balance…

Eli toppled from his perch on the catwalks. The rope pulled tight around his ankle and he was left hanging upside down from the ceiling.

Rose turned around and looked at the boy in front of her, who was currently dangling by one leg. He was clad all in black, with a cloak that swayed heavily below him as he thrashed about, trying to free his tangled foot. He had longish black hair and a white leather mask that covered one side of his face.

"_This is everyone_'_s mighty and terrifying Phantom_?" she thought.

Then she caught a glimpse of his eyes. She squinted at him, looking through the years. Those piercing blue eyes were unmistakable!

"What are you doing?" she asked finally.

Eli ceased his flailing and stopped to look at her. "I… I'm lurking!"

Rose snorted. "You look like you're hanging."

Eli grunted. "Help me out of this, would you?"

Rose approached him slowly, a smile on her lips. "I don't know… I think you look kind of cute like that. Maybe I should go get some of the other ballerinas and show you to them. Lo and behold! The Son of the Phantom has tangled his foot! How very frightening, indeed!"

Eli's eyes went wide as he stared at her. "You wouldn't!"

"Oh, wouldn't I?"

"Seriously, don't! If I'm seen like this, my father will kill me!"

Rose crossed her arms. "You could always say that you were distracted by a 'little hussy.'"

Eli paused, the memory of what Erik had called her coming back to him.

"I… uh… never really got the chance to apologize for my parents' actions…" he offered weakly.

Rose brushed it off. "It's been seven years, Eli… It doesn't matter anymore…"

The rope around Eli's ankle chose at that moment to give way, allowing the boy to unceremoniously fall on his head.

"Are you alright?" Rose asked, crouching down beside Eli as he sat up, rubbing the back of his head with one hand.

"Yes, I'm fine…" he said quickly. He silently scorned himself. "_My_,_ Eli_, _that was graceful_…" he thought bitterly.

"Here, let me help you up," Rose said, taking his arm. She helped him to his feet, then stepped back a bit and looked him up and down. "My, you've gotten tall…"

"Well, they say I take after my father."

Eli noticed her eyes flash a bit at the mention of Erik. It was quite obvious that she did not like him.

He tried desperately to think of something to say, to change the subject. "Well… uh, you've… uh… You sure have gotten… pretty…"

Eli nearly kicked himself. What was he _thinking_?

But the compliment earned a smile from Rose. "For a ghost, you're quite charming."

"_That_, I inherited from my mother," Eli smirked.

"So, how has life treated you these past years?" Rose asked, eager to catch up on old times.

"Well, I'm learning the family trade, I have my own title, I'm the subject of a lot of gossip, I'm believed to be hideously deformed, and just about anyone who sees me runs off screaming." Eli shrugged. "And you?"

"Well, I've spent the past seven years in boarding school where I learned many interesting, however useless, things. I had a few friends who only liked me because I'm a viscount's daughter. Most of my teachers hated me because apparently I was too '_outspoken_.' I've had a few beaus, but I'm sure they all liked my _bosom_ more than _me_. And I once broke a girl's nose for calling me a _hussy_." Rose smirked at Eli's facial expression, which was, to say the least, astounded.

"But enough about me," she continued. "Why are you wearing that mask?"

Eli touched the warm leather on his face. "Well, uh… It kind of comes with the job…"

"Oh," Rose said. "Can I take it off?"

"Uh, not now, Rose…" Eli said nervously. "If someone saw me, my father would probably give himself an ulcer."

"Such a pleasant fellow, your father," Rose smirked. "What? Doesn't he trust you?"

"Not exactly," Eli muttered.

Rose stepped forward and put her arms around Eli, wrapping him up in a tight hug. His breath caught in his throat.

"_Don_'_t just stand there like a fool_!" a voice in Eli's head scolded him. "_Hug her back_!"

Eli slowly returned the embrace. After a brief moment, Rose pulled away.

"It's great to see you again, Eli," she smiled. "I thought about you a lot these past years."

Eli hid a smile and stammered out a reply. "I… I, uh… thought about you a lot, too…"

"When can I see you again?" she asked.

"Well…" Eli hesitated. "I'm usually lurking around for most of the day… but… whatever happens, we have to meet alone… and… our parents can't know…"

Rose nodded. "Right… After what happened last time we saw each other, I doubt they'd approve of us meeting…" She paused. "Did your parents ever tell you why they have a problem with my family?"

Eli shook his head. "I tried asking, but my father is rather stubborn. He insists that I not speak about it."

"Same here," Rose said. "My parents keep saying things like, 'You wouldn't understand,' and 'It's a thing of the past,' and 'We just want to put bad memories behind us.'" She shrugged. "They won't tell me a thing."

"Well, let their problems _remain_ their problems," Eli said. "I mean… well… I rather enjoy your company… Why should we care what our parents think?"

"You're right," Rose agreed. "We need a private place to meet." She thought for a bit. "Oh! How about the roof?"

"Alright," Eli said. "Tomorrow night on the roof, then?"

"It's a date!" Rose smiled. "But now, I must return to my room."

"Ah, yes," Eli said, realizing that it was getting quite late. "I would walk you back, but, uh… you understand…"

Rose smiled. "Having the Son of the Phantom escort me back to my room might not go over that well with the other girls."

Eli nodded. "Until tomorrow night, then…" He bowed grandly, and she walked away from him.

Eli turned and began his own trek home. He could hardly wait for tomorrow night!

XxXxX

**Angel: At last! The lovers meet again!**

**Erik: _Snicker_. Way to impress the ladies, Eli!**

**Fantine: Why do I sound like a frickin' Sue?**

**Angel: Review! Review! Review!**


	7. Changing the Letter

**Angel: Thank you to all my lovely reviewers! You guys are awesome!**

**Fantine: I got candy...**

**Erik: Hurray for you...**

**Angel: Enjoy the chapter!**

**_7. Changing the Letter_**

Eli slipped back into the lair in the early evening. He had been far later than he had told Erik he would be. He knew what to expect – an all-out interrogation.

"_Nothing like Father at my throat to dampen a good mood_," he thought bitterly.

Eli took a look around. No one was in the main room. He decided to check his father's study. Eli went to the doorway and stopped dead in his tracks.

Evidently, his parents had decided to take a _break_ from casting. Erik had Fantine pressed against a wall, kissing her like there was no tomorrow.

Eli made a face. Sometimes he swore that his parents thought they were still young.

"Geez, can't you two get a room?"

Eli slapped a hand over his mouth. He hadn't meant to say that out loud!

Erik lifted his lips from Fantine's, smirking a bit. "Spoken like a true son of mine." His expression became serious. "You're late. Where have you been?"

"Oh… just terrifying a new ballerina…" Well, it was half-true!

Erik's expression remained steady as he moved away from Fantine and faced his son. "Is that so?" His voice was low and vaguely sinister.

"_Does he know what I_'_ve been up to_?" Eli wondered nervously.

"Yes… sir…" he replied, trying very hard to keep his voice steady. "That's all…"

Erik smirked. "That's my boy!"

Eli let out a sigh of relief as Erik returned to his desk.

"How is, uh… casting going?" Eli asked.

"Just finished up," Erik replied. "I'll have to get up early to drop this off at our managers' office."

An idea came to Eli at that time. "Sir, why don't you let me take care of that?"

Erik looked at him. "Take care of what?"

"Well… I plan to get up early anyway to go lurking around up on the surface… Why don't you just sleep in and let _me_ take care of delivering the message?"

Erik studied his son suspiciously. "Alright Eli, I'll bite… What do you _want_?"

"Nothing!" he replied. "I… I just think I should be taking more responsibility with the theatre… I _am_ going to have to learn the ropes, after all."

Erik looked incredulous. "Who are you and what did you do with my son?"

Eli rolled his eyes. "I thought you'd be glad that I'm showing a little interest in the theatre's affairs… Isn't that what you're always saying? That I need to show more responsibility around here?"

Erik contemplated his son for a moment longer. Finally, he shrugged. "It will be here on the desk. Make sure you drop it off good and early. We don't need anybody seeing you."

"Of course, sir."

"Eli?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Stop calling me 'sir.'"

Eli made a face. "Then what shall I call you? You want me to go back to calling you '_Papa_?'"

"You're a smart boy. I'm sure you'll think of something else."

Eli smirked. "Oh, how about Pops? Or Pappy? Or Dad? Or Pedro? Or Papai? Or Da'? Or–"

"_Lord_ _and_ _Master_ has a fine ring to it," Erik suggested with a smirk.

Eli sneered. "I think I'll stick with '_sir_.'"

Erik sighed. "Fine, have it your way… Stubborn boy…" He then turned to Fantine. "It's getting late. Let's go."

Erik and Fantine left the study and headed for their bedroom. Eli let out a sigh of relief and collapsed into the desk chair.

That was a close one…

Eli's eyes fell to the taunting envelope on the desk. The red skull that was his father's seal grinned up at him mockingly.

"_I shouldn_'_t do this_," Eli thought. "_It_'_s foolish_._ And I know that_,_ sooner or later_,_ I_'_ll end up facing Father_'_s wrath_."

Taking a deep breath, Eli picked up the envelope with shaky hands. He broke the seal and pulled the letter out.

It was a typical note, very much like the others that Eli had seen his father write before. It was addressed to the managers, Firmin and Andre, and inside were the casting instructions for the new production of _Hannibal_. Erik had laid out who was to fill which role and had included a reminder to leave Box Five empty for his use.

Eli scanned the letter briefly. His father had selected a woman named Michelle Sadowski to fill the role of Elissa. Eli knew the girl. She was young, probably only in her mid-twenties. Her voice was good.

But not as good as Rose de Chagny's.

Eli pulled out a fresh piece of paper and a quill. Hastily, he rewrote his father's letter, word-for-word, with one minor change: in Michelle Sadowski's place, he requested that the role of Elissa be filled by Rose de Chagny.

Guiltily, he burned the old letter and slipped the new one into the envelope, re-sealing it with the red skull.

"_I_'_m going to be in so much trouble when Father finds out_," Eli thought.

He went straight to bed, not sleeping but lying awake and dreading the drama that was about to unfold…

XxXxX

Rose stretched her legs out. Ballet practice had just finished. Now she could return to her room and prepare herself for that night. Her stomach buzzed with excitement at the thought of spending some more time with her old childhood friend.

Her thoughts were so preoccupied with preparing for that night, that she almost didn't notice when Monsieur Andre approached her.

"Mademoiselle de Chagny?" he spoke.

Rose looked up at him. "Monsieur?"

"Would you mind stepping into my office for a moment, please?"

Rose gulped. Ballerinas were only called into the managers' office if they were in trouble. Her mind raced. Had she done something wrong? Had she broken some rule or regulation that she was unaware of?

With tiny steps, she followed Andre into his office. Monsieur Firmin was there, too. In his hand, he held a piece of paper with some writing on it. Both men looked grave.

"Mademoiselle," Firmin began, "I must say this is indeed a surprise."

Rose squirmed in her seat. What was he trying to say? That he expected the patron's daughter to be better behaved?

"Yes, indeed," Andre agreed with his partner. "You've only been here for two days, and yet you've already caught the Phantom's eye."

"You must have a great deal of talent for him to be so confident in casting you."

"The… Phantom? Casting? What are you talking about?" Rose looked bewildered.

Firmin glanced down at the paper in his hands. " We brought you in here to tell you that the Phantom of the Opera has ordered us to cast you in the lead role of the new production of _Hannibal_."

Rose furrowed her brow. "But… why me?"

Andre shrugged. "It's hard to say with the Phantom." He lowered his voice. "His ways are not our ways."

"We wanted to know if you object to the Phantom's decision," Firmin continued. "You don't have to be involved if you don't want to. However, past experience tells us that it would be in your best interests to obey him."

Rose stared at the floor. Why would Eli's father want _her_ to star in the new opera? She didn't even think the man liked her!

"I… suppose I… could agree to such… commands…" Rose said slowly.

Firmin smiled brightly, as though she had just agreed to do a favour for him. "Excellent," he said. "I look forward to seeing the talent that has caught the Phantom's attention. Good day to you, Mademoiselle."

Rose left the office. She agreed to the Phantom's demands… for now. Tonight, she would have to ask Eli why his father had taken such a sudden interest in her.

XxXxX

Eli watched Rose from the rafters in the ceiling. She had just left the managers' office, and she looked a little flustered. No doubt she had just heard that she was the new star of the production, _Hannibal_.

He would have some explaining to do when they met on the roof.

XxXxX

Rose headed back to her room with hasty steps. Wait till the other girls heard about this!

A voice suddenly stopped her in her tracks. "Rose? Rose de Chagny? Is that you?"

Rose spun around. "David Cormier!" she gasped when she saw the tall, handsome boy that she had met in boarding school. David had been the heartthrob of every girl in her class. He had long sandy hair that he always kept neatly tied back, and warm brown eyes. He had fine, chiselled features and a perfect smile that made most girls swoon. Rose was not so easily impressed by young David, which was probably why he had pursued her with such determination. She supposed the handsome boy liked a bit of a challenge.

Despite Rose's early lack of interest in the boy, she did eventually share a short-term relationship with him. A few months after he had started courting her, he promptly broke it off in pursuit of some other pretty young girl. It didn't take the boy very long to tire of a girl, it seemed. Even now, Rose felt her temper flare just a bit at the boy's audacity to speak to her after brushing her off so inconsiderately.

David smiled that perfect smile that would make any other girl's heart flutter. Rose remained stone-faced.

"Rose… What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same thing of you," she replied, coldly.

David did not let her cool tone discourage him. "I just started working here," he said. "I've been hired on as a stagehand. What about you?"

Rose folded her arms and tried her best to look as unapproachable as possible. "I'm working here, too. Ballet."

David's insufferable smile did not decrease a bit. "That's wonderful! I… I missed you after you left school. It's great that we'll get to see each other all the time, now."

"You _missed_ me?" Rose scoffed. "You certainly didn't seem to _miss_ me after you brushed me off for some long-legged red-haired large-busted airhead!"

"Oh, come now, Rose!" he laughed. "That was such a long time ago!"

"Last year!" Rose snapped.

David's face grew serious. He spoke in a voice that sounded almost sincere. "Well, I was being childish. I am much more mature now. I was stupid for pursuing those witless little girls, especially when I had such a wonderful young woman like you." He took a step closer to her. "I'm so sorry for hurting you."

Rose knew he was just saying what he thought she wanted to hear, but decided to be civil. "Very well. I forgive you. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

"Wait!" he cried, grasping her arm as she turned to walk away. "You must let me take you out to dinner! To catch up on old times! Please. It's the least I can do."

"I'm sorry, David," Rose said, trying to tug her arm from his grasp. "I have other plans for tonight."

"I won't keep you late, I promise! Please? Just let me buy you supper… To make up for how I treated you…"

Rose sighed. This was how David had always been. He would not take no for an answer.

She thought it over. If it would get David off her back, surely she could just spend an hour or two with him and return in plenty of time to meet Eli on the roof? She would make it clear to David, however, that he was not going to win her heart back. She had had enough of boys who claimed to care for her. They always disappointed her…

"Fine, David," she said reluctantly. "I'll go to dinner with you. But that is all!"

David grinned excitedly. "Excellent! Come with me! I'll order a carriage!"

Rose sighed as she followed the boy. She certainly hoped that dinner would be short. She wanted to be back in time to meet Eli as she had promised him.

"_Perhaps Eli won_'_t mind if I_'_m a little late_?" she wondered.

Breathing deeply, she left the theatre with David. She did not look forward to dinner.

XxXxX

**Angel: Now, I know what a lot of you are thinking right now... "Great, she's gonna rip off the movie again..." Well, please don't jump to conclusions! You may be surprised.**

**Erik: If you read and don't review...**

**Fantine: Mr. Punjab will come for you!**

**Angel: Please let us know what you think!**


	8. Jealous Fire

**Angel: So, the most commonly asked question was why was I letting aristocrats join the theatre? It is true, nobles never participated in the Arts. It was seen as a place for the lower classes. But... IT'S MY FIC AND I HAVE THE ULTIMATE POWER! MWUHAHA!**

**Erik: Angel... You're scaring the nice phans...**

**Angel: Sorry... Enjoy the chapter!**

**_8. Jealous Fire_**

Two hours later found Eli sitting up on the roof alone, with his face buried in his hands. He had watched Rose leave the theatre with some pretty-boy named David Cormier. He had only heard part of their conversation, but from what he had heard he had discovered that David was some former beau of Rose's, who had apparently brushed her off for some girl who was as pretty as she was stupid. This David had asked her to dinner, and she had accepted.

And after she had left, Eli was shocked by the strange emotion that had suddenly overwhelmed his mind and body. It was a sick feeling that started down in the pits of his stomach, erupting up into his chest. It sent flames coursing through his blood, engulfing his whole being. He felt bile build up in the back of his throat, causing his face to twist into a scowl. His hands clenched up and his teeth started grinding, and Eli suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to attack this pretty-boy, wrap his hand around his throat and choke the life out of him.

Eli was amazed and disturbed by these emotions. Why on earth did he feel this way?

Could it be, perhaps, jealousy? It was a logical assumption. After all, how often did he get a chance to have a normal conversation with anyone, let alone a _girl_? This pretty-boy had whisked his Rose away. No doubt she would forget about their rendezvous. Single-handedly, that ignorant fool had just cost him a long-awaited moment alone with his only friend in the world.

Eli began pacing. It was getting late. But he couldn't bring himself to return to the lair. Not yet.

No, he would wait all night if he had to. He would not risk missing Rose… Not now, not ever.

XxXxX

Rose had a pounding headache and was in an exceptionally miserable mood when the carriage finally dropped her and David back at the theatre. David had done nothing but talk about himself over the entire meal, and Rose was quite certain that every sentence he had spoken had been directed at her cleavage, for the boy had not removed his eyes from it from the moment they had entered the restaurant.

Despite his promise not to keep her out late, David had forced her to stay with him for a good three hours. He might have made her stay longer, had she not finally stalked out of the restaurant and to the awaiting carriage.

"I had a great time tonight," David told her as they walked up the front steps of the Opera Populaire.

"_Yeah_,_ I_'_ll bet you did_," Rose thought grimly.

"Perhaps I could take you out again tomorrow night?" David asked eagerly. "I really enjoy spending time with you."

"David," Rose began. "I appreciate your generosity in buying me dinner and I thank you for the compliment of showing an interest in me… But I have no interest in being courted… by _anyone_."

David grinned. "You know, I love it when you play hard-to-get. Really, it turns me on."

Rose wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Perhaps you did not hear me? I do not wish to have a relationship with you! Now, or _ever_!"

David frowned. "Are you _still_ upset over what happened last year? I said I was sorry!"

"David, this has nothing to do with what happened last year! I simply have no interest in boys right now!"

David scoffed. "And to think that I wasted my time on a worthless little hussy like you!"

Rose exploded. "Don't call me a _hussy_!" she screamed. Then she brought her knee up as hard as she could into David's groin. The handsome boy cried out and fell to his knees. He glanced up at Rose helplessly, his eyes tearing up.

"Sing soprano, jackass," she muttered, stalking away and leaving him where he knelt. It was starting to get late. How she hoped that Eli was still waiting for her.

XxXxX

Rose arrived on top of the roof. She let out a breath of relief when she saw a shadowy figure seated at the foot of Apollo's lyre.

"Eli!" she cried. "Oh, am I glad to see you! You will not believe the rotten day I've had. I'm so glad you're here!"

"I was starting to fear that you had forgotten," Eli spoke. His voice was steady and unemotional.

"I'm sorry, Eli, something came up," Rose said, as she walked over to him. She picked up one of his hands and gasped as she nearly dropped it. His hands were so cold! How long had he been waiting out here?

"Eli, you feel like you're freezing!"

"My hands are always cold," he said. "I suppose a life in the shade has that affect on a person."

Rose paused. She had never seen him like this before. He seemed so… detached. She could sense something was wrong.

"Eli? Is everything alright?"

"Oh, everything is just _perfect_!" he spat. His harsh reply made Rose take a step back. Eli directed his gaze at her for the first time since she had arrived. His eyes looked cruel and as cold as his hands!

"Eli?" she said shakily. "Please… Tell me… What is wrong? You're not acting like yourself."

"Oh, don't worry about _me_, Little Rose," he said as he stood up. "Tell me… How was your dinner with your pretty-boy?"

Rose gasped. "How did _you_ know about that?"

"I'm a _ghost_!" Eli snarled. "I know just about everything that goes on inside these walls!"

Rose stared at him disbelievingly. "You… You've been spying on me?"

Eli turned his back on her. "I would hardly call it '_spying_.' I was keeping an eye on you after the rehearsal… I just wanted to make sure that you made it to your room safely. Then that pretty-boy showed up! He looked shady, so I lingered. And then you left with him!"

Rose glared at him. "You act as though I have been unfaithful to you in some way! Need I remind you that I am _not_ your lover, and I am not committed to you in any way? You are my _friend_! If I choose to have dinner with another man, that is my own concern! If you can't accept that, then perhaps you should find a new friend!"

Eli cringed at her words. She was right, of course. He had no reason to feel so jealous. And yet… he did…

Rose approached him slowly, her voice becoming soft. "Besides… What interest should I have in boys? All any boy has ever done for me is provide further proof that men are good for only two things: Making babies and hurting you. A girl can only take so much disappointment, Eli…" She closed her eyes. "Perhaps coming here was a mistake. I'm sorry for wasting your time…"

"Wait, Rose," Eli said quickly before she had the chance to turn away. He turned to face her. "I'm sorry… I… I didn't mean to upset you. It's just… I've never had anyone before… I… I guess I'm just afraid that one day you'll wake up and realize that I'm not that interesting after all… I don't want to be alone again… I fear I would go mad from it… I guess… I've never really had a social life before. I fear I really have no idea how I'm supposed to act."

Rose smiled faintly. "Act like the little boy I befriended seven years ago… That's all I ask of you…"

Eli felt the corners of his mouth twist upwards. "_Am I smiling_?" he wondered.

"But now," Rose continued, "there is something I must ask you. Andre and Firmin called me into their office today to tell me that the Phantom of the Opera wants me to star in _Hannibal_. May I ask why your father seems so interested in me all of a sudden? I didn't even think he knew that I had come back!"

Eli ran a hand through his hair. "Yes, you deserve an answer to that. My father didn't cast you. I did."

Rose stared at him. "You… did? But why? Why did you do that?"

"Because, Rose," he said, grasping her shoulders. "You have twice the talent of any woman at the theatre. I heard you. Your voice is beautiful. Why should you spend the next ten years as a mere chorus girl and ballerina when fame and success is waiting for you _right_ _now_? I wanted the managers to see… I wanted Paris to see…" Eli lowered his gaze, his voice barely a whisper now. "I wanted… my father to see… To see that you deserve to be this house's prima donna. You will be marvellous!" Eli took a step back from her. "I couldn't just sit by and watch your talent go to waste. I suppose I _am_ very much my father's son – I can't help but meddle with things that aren't any of my business." He looked her in the eye. "But I did it for _you_, Rose. You deserve to be heard."

Rose averted her gaze, afraid to meet his desperate eyes. "But… your father… he'll be so angry when he finds out what you've done."

"Then let that be my own concern," he said, nearing her once again. "I… I'm confident that once he hears you sing, he'll have to agree… You _are_ the best singer in this opera house. I… I could obtain roles for you! Help your career progress and such… I could even teach you! My father taught me everything he knows about music… I could give you lessons… Make you even better! There is no limit to what we could do together!"

"But your father…" Rose whispered.

"He doesn't need to know! I'll see to it that he doesn't even learn your name! We… we could meet up here each night! I'll teach you for an hour or so, and then we could return home before anyone knew we were gone! It could be our secret!"

Rose took a slow step forward and put her arms around Eli's waist, resting her head against his chest. Eli put his arms around her shoulders and held her close.

"Eli, I'm scared," she whispered.

"Don't be afraid," he said soothingly. "I won't let anything happen to you. I'll protect you, I promise."

And Eli would keep that promise… Even if it meant turning his back on everything else…

XxXxX

**Angel: Again, do not get the wrong impression from this chapter! This won't be a replay of the movie.**

**Fantine: Uh-huh... Sure it won't be...**

**Erik: Don't forget to review!**

**Angel: Reviewers get to kiss Erik!**

**Erik: Would you stop whoring me out?**

**Angel: Sorry, Erik... I use what works...**


	9. Surprise Star

**Angel: I can't believe I'm actually doing this, but... OK guys, watch out for the sequel to _Getting Out of the Closet_, co-written by MJ-Skywalker... Actually, it was completely her idea... I never thought I'd actually do a sequel to that one, but MJ just had some fabulous ideas and I couldn't resist. So... Keep your eyes peeled... And enjoy the new chapter to _this_ sequel! I think all y'all'll like it!**

**_9. Surprise Star_**

**_OPENING NIGHT OF HANNIBAL_**

Rose paced nervously backstage while she waited for the curtain to open for the first scene. It was the first time she had ever performed for such a large audience, and she was going to be up front and centre!

Rose had begun taking night-lessons with Eli on the roof, as they had planned. She had thrived under his instruction, and now she only hoped that she would not disappoint him.

"Eli, I hope you were right about your father," she whispered. If he found out her true identity, Rose feared what the Phantom might do to her.

XxXxX

Eli took a seat in Box Five with his parents. Erik checked his pocket-watch for the thousandth time and let out a frustrated sigh.

"They're three minutes late! I must speak to our managers about this… It's impolite to make an audience wait!"

"Calm now," Fantine said. "It should start any moment now."

A few moments later, the lights dimmed and the orchestra started to play. The curtains drew back for the first scene. Eli felt his heart swell with pride when he saw Rose on the stage in her costume.

Erik leaned forward in his seat. "That doesn't look like Mademoiselle Sadowski," he murmured in a dangerous tone.

Fantine looked out at the girl on the stage. "Those fools!" she hissed. "I can't believe it! It's been _years_ since they've dared to defy us!"

Erik scowled. "They must think we're getting soft!" He fisted his hands. "Dammit! And I _liked_ this opera! Now we have to go prepare a show-stopper!"

Fantine stood up, preparing to leave the box. "We could drop one of those backdrops on her head! That would certainly catch their attention!"

Erik thought for a minute. "Personally, I'd like something a bit more severe… Teach them a lesson they won't ever forget… Hopefully, she will be in need of medical attention when we're finished."

Eli stared at his parents. "You're joking, right? I mean, I know you always threaten 'a disaster beyond imagination' if your orders are disobeyed, but surely you'd never actually _do_ something like that?"

Erik looked at his son. "Consider this another lesson in the role of an Opera Ghost. If you threaten to do something, you bloody-well better be prepared to do it! If not, your managers will think that they can get away with _anything_!" Erik gazed out at the stage. "Though I must admit, it's been a long time since I've had to act on any of my threats. I somewhat feel sorry for that girl… She probably didn't even know… Those foolish managers!"

Eli's heart rate sped. He couldn't let his parents hurt Rose! If they did, he would never forgive himself!

"Wait! Sir!" Eli cried out as Erik made a motion to leave the box.

Erik turned to face his son. "What is it?"

Eli sighed. "They didn't disobey your orders… I did…"

Erik furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"I… changed your letter…"

Eli turned his eyes away from his father. The man looked deathly calm, and Eli found it very unnerving.

"Why did you do that?" Erik's voice was quiet and controlled, but Eli picked up the merest hint of menace and hatred in his tone. The one thing that frightened Eli about his father was how intimidating the man could be when angry.

"Just listen to her, please!" Eli begged. "I heard her and… Sir, believe me, you will never hear a more beautiful voice! Please, listen to her and you'll understand!"

Erik's face remained stony and cold. He stood glaring at Eli for a long moment. Finally, he returned to his seat.

"I hope she is as good as you claim," Erik said as he sat down. "For _your_ sake…"

XxXxX

Rose breathed deeply. It was almost time for her to sing. She glanced up at Box Five. Eli had said that that was where he would be watching. She couldn't make out his form within the shadows of the box, but she knew that he had to be there.

She felt her pulse quicken a bit with the knowledge that the Phantom of the Opera would be watching as well, along with Lady Phantom. She wondered what _their_ reactions would be to seeing her there on the stage.

Rose shook the thoughts from her head. She had to concentrate, otherwise she could not perform. Taking a deep breath and focussing only on the music, Rose opened her mouth and began to sing.

XxXxX

Erik listened attentively as the young girl on the stage sang. He hated to admit it, but Eli was right. The girl's voice was beautiful. Better than Michelle Sadowski's. Better than anyone's!

At first, he had thought that Eli had simply chosen the girl because of her pretty face. Teenagers were prone to making bad decisions based on hormonal urges. But Erik was proud to see that Eli had actually made his selection with professional taste. He was shaping up to be a rather a decent Phantom.

Erik watched the girl on stage intently. It seemed that she had had _some_ training. But mostly she was still raw talent. Erik listened to her carefully. He wouldn't mind training such a voice, moulding her into a perfect prima donna. Why, under his direction, she could go far.

Erik sat back in his chair and thought about it. Perhaps he _would_ take the young talent under his wing. It would be something to consider.

He decided to talk it over with Fantine. Eli just might have discovered a new star on the rise.

XxXxX

Meg Romard watched in disbelief from her place backstage as Rose sang. She was almost as good as her mother had been! Meg was amazed. Less than two days was how long it took for young Rose to secure a lead role in an opera hosted by one of the best theatres in the world. Even Christine hadn't been that lucky. Christine had been a chorus girl and dancer for nearly ten years before making her debut.

Meg wondered why on earth Erik would cast Rose. Didn't he realize who her parents were?

Meg froze. What if Erik _didn_'_t_ know?

But how on earth could that be possible? Surely Erik would know enough to discover the girl's name before telling Andre and Firmin to put her in the leading role!

But if he didn't know…?

Meg became worried. Would young Rose be safe working in the same opera house that was also home to her mother's former lover? No, Meg didn't fear that history would repeat itself. What she feared was Erik's terrible temper… And his tendency to hold grudges…

"_I guess I_'_m going to have to learn the meaning of being a secret_-_keeper_," Meg thought. "_I suppose that is the price one pays for befriending the Opera Ghost_…"

XxXxX

Rose let out a sigh of relief when the performance was finally over. She rushed off the stage, ignoring the applauds and the numerous people who tried to stop her to congratulate her. She ran until she reached her dressing room. She spun around, slammed the door shut, and leaned up against it, breathing heavily.

"_I don_'_t know if I can do what Eli expects of me_," she thought. "_I have never been so scared in my life_!"

Stepping away from the door, Rose headed over to her wardrobe to change out of her costume. She froze when she heard a strange mechanical sound. It was coming from her mirror. Rose spun around and gasped at what she saw. Her mirror was gone, and a great black tunnel stood in its place. From the darkness a form emerged. He was clad all in black with a flowing cloak. His hair was blacker than black, his eyes piercing blue. A white mask concealed one half of his face.

But he wasn't Eli…

"Good evening," the Phantom said. He took a step towards her. Rose shrunk back.

"Don't be shy, now," he said smoothly. "I come bearing gifts." He held a single red rose out to her.

"So did the Greeks at Troy," Rose said as she took the flower from him with shaky hands.

"Touché," the Phantom replied. He slowly circled her, examining her form. "My, you are even more lovely up close!" he commented.

"What do you want?" Rose whispered. She was paralyzed with fear. She was alone in a room with the Phantom of the Opera!

Eli's father…

"I merely wished to congratulate you on your exceptional performance tonight," he said. "Really, you have a remarkable voice."

"And you want nothing _else_?" she asked pointedly.

The Phantom smirked. He had heard many tales in the theatre that painted him as something of a womanizer. This girl was obviously nervous about his intentions.

"If you are suggesting what I think you are suggesting, I can assure you – absolutely not! I happen to be a married man!" He contemplated her a moment longer. "I'm probably old enough to be your father, anyway."

Rose took a few steps back from him. "_Must he stand so close to me_?" she wondered. "_You_'_d think he has no concept of personal space_!"

"On the other hand, I do have ulterior motives for coming here," the Phantom continued. "Your voice is beautiful… however _untrained_. If you hope to progress further in your career, you'll need a teacher." His voice took on a persuasive tone. "I happen to be something of a vocal tutor. I could give you the help you need to make the most of your talent. I assure you, you'll find my services quite worthwhile."

"I… I'm sorry, Monsieur… I already have a tutor."

"I see… and what price is he charging you? I'm quite certain that I could give you a better fee."

"He doesn't charge me… _anything_…" Rose whispered.

The Phantom was persistent. "Nothing? Then I'd say his services probably aren't worth your time, anyway." He neared her again. Rose cowered before his imposing figure. "Let _me_ teach you. I have much to offer. I promise you, you won't regret it."

"Please… Monsieur…" Rose was trembling now. "I have no desire to change tutors at this time."

Rose took several deep breaths, trying to control her racing pulse. "_He looks so much like Eli_!" she thought as she gazed at him in fearful wonder.

The Phantom held her gaze for some time, then turned and headed back towards the mirror. "Very well, Mademoiselle. If you are sure."

"I am." Rose's voice was barely audible.

"May I have your name, before I go?"

"Uh… Rose…"

The Phantom nodded. "If you _are_ in need of a vocal tutor in the future, my offer still stands." He offered a slight bow. "Good evening, Mademoiselle… I trust that this will not be our last encounter…"

He stepped back through the mirror and disappeared as it closed behind him. He was gone, leaving her with a rose and a terrible ache in her gut.

XxXxX

**Angel: Erik is creepy...**

**Fantine: You were flirting with her!**

**Erik: Was not!**

**Angel: Please review!**


	10. Secret Meetings

**Angel: Thank you, my loverly reviewers... I like hearing from you guys... Just so y'all know, the Closet sequel has been posted.**

**Erik: (_groans_) More humiliation...**

**Fantine: (_grins_) More male nudity...**

**Erik: Sick-o...**

**Fantine: You'd better believe it!**

**Angel: Enjoy the chapter!**

**_10. Secret Meetings_**

Erik returned to the lair where Fantine stood waiting in the main room.

"Did you talk to the girl?" she asked.

"I tried," Erik shrugged. "She claims that she already has a tutor, but really I think she was just trying to get rid of me. And I was a perfect gentleman, too!"

Fantine smirked. "A child like that is bound to be intimidated by the Opera Ghost… Does she have a name?"

"Rose… That's it…"

"Rose? Pretty name. Did she say who her tutor was?"

"No… And I won't bother trying to find out… I'm not _that_ anxious for a new student."

"Eli certainly fancies her. He hasn't stopped talking about her since we got home!"

Erik's eyes grew dark. "Eli…" he muttered. "Excuse me."

He left Fantine where she stood and entered the study, where Eli lay stretched out on the couch with a book.

"Son? A word, please?"

Eli looked up from his book. "Sir?"

"Next time you get the urge to meddle in my business affairs without my consent… don't."

Eli's expression remained calm. "What did you think of her?"

"Mademoiselle Rose? Her voice is good, I'll give you that. I suppose your selection was wise."

Eli's breath caught. "How…? How did you know her name?"

"Oh, I went to her dressing room after the performance to offer my congratulations… Shy girl. Pretty little thing. I offered my help in tutoring her, but she claimed that she already had a teacher." He paused. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"Uh… No! No, of course not!"

Erik shrugged. "I thought not. She probably just told me that to get rid of me." Erik hesitated. "Son… you know that if you really want to be more involved in the theatre's affairs, you don't have to sneak around behind my back. Just _talk_ to me. I'd be more than willing to work with you."

"Would you?" Eli scoffed. "Would you even listen to me? Or would you just treat me like an incompetent child?"

Erik sighed. "Eli–"

"Maybe I don't want to work _with_ you! Maybe I want to be independent. Maybe I want you to just trust me for once!"

Erik was at a loss for words. "Son, I… I _do_ trust you."

"No, you don't! You're afraid that I'll cause trouble… That I'll be seen… That I'll do something reckless… I'm not a child anymore! I'm a man!"

Erik closed his eyes. "I know that. God knows I know that! But… I am still your father, and I worry about you… all the time…"

"Please," Eli said imploringly. "I can haunt this theatre as well as you can! Please… let me be involved! I'm younger and faster! I could help you while I learn the rest of the trade. Then when the time comes for me to take over the job, I'll already have experience. Please, let me _help_ you!"

Erik was silent for a moment. "If… that is what you want…"

"I want it more than anything!"

Erik sighed. "Alright… we begin tomorrow…"

Erik left the room then. Eli breathed deeply. He and his father had just had an _understanding_!

Eli rolled over onto his side. He began to wonder if he would ever find the courage to tell his father the truth about Rose.

XxXxX

The next day, Erik stalked the catwalks with Eli right behind him. They were busy watching the orchestra at rehearsal.

"As a Phantom, it is your duty to ensure that this theatre employs only the best musicians and artists," Erik said. "Now, listen to the orchestra. Tell me what you think."

Eli listened for a moment, concentrating. "That third violinist is nearly a full tone flat," he said finally.

"Right, you are," Erik said. "So… as a Phantom, what should you do about it?"

Eli shrugged. "I suppose we should leave a note with the managers requesting his dismissal."

"You _could_ do that," Erik said. "But then the next few performances would be short one violinist while the managers look for a new one to replace him. Not to mention you would have to listen in on several auditions to ensure that only the best musician is hired. Is there perhaps a way to resolve this problem without resorting to firing this man?"

Eli thought a bit more. "I suppose his playing would be decent enough, if only his instrument were properly tuned," he said finally. "Perhaps we should suggest that one of the other violinists tune it for him before the next performance?"

"An excellent idea," Erik said.

"Erik? Eli?"

The men turned to see Meg Romard cautiously making her way across the catwalks towards them.

"I hate heights," Meg mumbled.

"Why don't you lend your arm to the dear Madame Romard, Elijah?" Erik suggested. "Though we Phantoms are not the most pleasant of creatures, we are still gentlemen."

Eli nodded, slightly annoyed that his father found it necessary to call him 'Elijah' in front of anyone other than his mother. Eli turned about and easily closed the distance between himself and Meg. He held out his arm which she gripped with a strength he hadn't believed her small frame was capable of.

"I do believe Madame will bruise my arm," Eli said with a smirk.

"Just don't let me fall," Meg whispered.

Eli helped Meg over to where his father still stood. "If these heights frighten you so much," Erik said, "why do you still insist upon coming up here to see me every time I'm working?"

Meg grinned. "Why not? I did it all the time when I was girl in the Corps du Ballet. All the girls used to dare each other to wander high up into the catwalks in search of the Phantom." Meg gave a little laugh. "Honestly Erik, if it weren't for you, my childhood would have been so dull!" She glanced downwards. "Though I don't remember ever being this uncomfortable up here back then."

Erik smirked. "Indeed, I remember you ballet rats and your antics… And I remember how livid your mother got with me when I actually allowed myself to be seen by Little Jammes."

Meg burst out laughing. "So she _did_ see you? We all figured she was lying!"

"Not at all," Erik said. "But did your mother ever let me have it! Shook her cane at me and everything, threatened to box my ears if I ever scared one of her girls like that again."

"Didn't stop you though, did it?" Eli put in.

Erik looked at his son. "Does anything?"

Meg paused for a moment. "So… Rose did a wonderful job last night…"

"Indeed, she did," Erik said. "Who would have known that such a young child could be so talented?"

"May I ask why you cast her?"

"As much as I'd like to take credit for that," Erik said, "it wasn't my idea. Elijah here decided to surprise his mother and I. He changed my casting orders and had that girl put in the lead role. I was right furious until I heard the little flower sing. He certainly knows how to pick them, doesn't he?"

Meg looked at Eli. "You heard Rose sing? When?"

Eli stumbled for his words. "Well, uh… she… she tends to go to the auditorium during the late hours when no one else is around… She sings for hours!"

"She is quite the discovery," Erik said.

"Almost as good as Christine was," Meg said quietly.

Erik's eyes darkened. "Yes… I suppose… She could be even better if she would just let me teach her… but she refused my services!"

"You offered to teach her?" Meg repeated.

"She's a rare talent," Erik said. "What teacher wouldn't want her as a protégé? But I'm afraid she was rather intimidated by the whole 'Opera Ghost' front." Erik shook his head. "A girl of her age should not let a silly matter as fear stand in the way of her career." He shrugged. "No matter… Her voice is good, nonetheless. I'm actually considering her for the lead role of this house's next opera. She would do well. Unfortunately, I didn't catch her last name the other night." Erik looked at Eli. "What is it, anyway?"

"What?" Eli said.

"Her last name!" Erik said. "What is her last name?"

Eli broke into a cold sweat. "I… don't know…"

"You don't know?" Erik repeated. "Then how on earth did you request her for the role of Elissa?"

Eli's mind raced, quickly thinking up a lie. "I… I simply requested the lovely Mademoiselle Rose from the Corps du Ballet… It's not like there's any other ballerinas employed here named 'Rose.'"

Erik contemplated his son. Finally, he turned to Meg. "Well, I'm certain her ballet mistress would know the girl's name…"

Meg's pulse raced. So Erik _didn_'_t_ know who Rose was! And apparently, neither did Eli. She knew she couldn't give Rose's name away, yet from Erik's tone Meg got the impression that the request for a name was more of an _order_ than a simple question.

Meg gulped. "I, uh… I'm really not sure… of her last name… sorry…"

Erik raised an eyebrow. "She's your student! Surely you should know a simple bit of information as a name!"

Meg shifted on her feet. "Well… I have many girls to look after… And Rose is fairly new… I'm afraid I don't remember every name…"

Erik's gaze shifted between Meg and Eli. "Well," he said finally. "I suppose the identity of the mysterious Mademoiselle Rose will make itself known soon enough. Until then, I'll just have to take a page out of my son's book and request the 'lovely Mademoiselle Rose from the Corps du Ballet' for the lead roles." He crossed his arms. "Though a surname would be much easier."

There was an uneasy silence. Finally, Meg forced a pleasant smile. "I'd best go now." She turned to Eli. "Will you see me down from this perch?"

"Certainly," Eli said quickly. He turned to his father. "I'll be along later. I have something I have to attend to."

"Oh, really?" Erik said. "What might that be?"

"Oh… Just theatre business…"

Erik raised a brow, but he did not question the matter further.

For that, Eli was thankful…

XxXxX

Eli waited for Rose on the roof later that evening. When she arrived, he smiled and ran to her, taking her hand.

"Rose!" he cried excitedly. "You won't believe what happened today! My father and I haunted the theatre together. We haven't done anything together since I was a child! He taught me more about the business. He said that I'm going be a great Phantom! Even better than him! After all these years, he's starting to _feel_ more like a father again!"

"That's nice, Eli…" Her voice was deadpan. Eli knew immediately that something was wrong.

"Rose? What is it?"

Rose closed her eyes. "I'm sorry. I just had a bad day."

"What happened?"

"It's David."

"The pretty-boy?" Eli felt his anger flare at just the thought of him.

Rose looked at the ground. "He… he was angry that I blew him off… So he spread this rumour about me… He told the other girls that I…"

"What did he say?" Eli prodded.

"He… told the girls that I'm… a homosexual…"

Eli could hardly believe his ears. "_What_?"

Rose wrung her hands. "I told him that I wasn't interested in boys right now. He twisted that around and made it sound like I prefer _girls_. I was so humiliated at rehearsal today! No one wanted to be my partner for the warm-ups, and then everyone would whisper whenever I walked by. I felt like a freak!"

"Oh, Rose…" Eli whispered as he pulled her into his arms.

"And your father…" she whispered. "He was in my dressing room last night… He was acting so strangely… Like he had every right to be there! I was so scared… Scared that he would somehow know who I am… If he discovers my identity, he'll kill me! I just know it!"

Eli stroked her hair. "That will never happen… My father is not a killer…"

Rose looked up at him. "But… the stories–"

"Are just that! Stories! My father is not a demon or a ghost. He is just a man. Albeit, deformed. But he is not a monster. He has never killed anyone. He never _could_! My mother was never beautiful. She wasn't a dancer. My parents may make a lot of threats, but they would never cause serious harm to anyone!" Eli sighed. "That's the plain truth. The Phantoms are just an ugly man and an ugly woman making a living for themselves as well as they know how… The stories also say that _I_ am deformed. But that is not true either." He reached up and removed his mask. "See? Nothing scary. Just _me_."

Rose said nothing for the longest time, just staring at him.

"What is it?" he asked finally.

"Eli… you've… you've grown so handsome!"

Eli felt a warm feeling rise in the pit of his stomach. Before he could stop himself, he raised a hand and cupped Rose's cheek. She pressed her face into his palm. Eli leaned down close to her, until his lips were just a whisper away from hers. But then he drew back completely, severing all contact, and turned his back to her.

"Eli?" He felt her hand touch his shoulder.

"I… I'm sorry, Rose… I have offended you enough… I have no right to… to touch you so informally… _especially_ when I know how much you've been hurt before…" He turned to face her once again. "I can't help the way I feel… But a gentleman should be able to demonstrate a little more restraint… I'm sorry…" He closed his eyes. "Perhaps we should just forget it… You go back to your life, I'll go back to mine… We'll do just fine…"

"But I don't want to…" Her reply surprised him.

"But… but…" he sputtered. "If our parents find out what we've been up to, they'll be furious! Already my father has grown curious about you. It will only be a matter of time before he figures out who you are! Don't you see? In the end we'll _both_ get hurt. Is that what you want?"

Rose neared him and put her arms around his waist. "What does your heart want?" she asked him.

Eli was silent for a long time. "It… It's madness… We knew each other for less than a day when we were children, and yet for seven years I couldn't stop thinking about you! And now that you have come back into my life, my whole being aches for you when we're apart. And when we're together, I'm happier than I have ever been before. It's insanity! But I know… I just know… I want to be with you… I _need_ to be with you…"

Rose smiled. "Then you have not offended me… Because I _need_ to be with you, too."

Eli said nothing. He couldn't believe his ears. Then Rose stood up on tiptoe, craned her neck, and planted her lips against his.

Eli froze. She was kissing him! He had never experienced anything like this before. He found himself responding to her instinctively, relying on his sense of touch, allowing his emotions to guide him.

Finally, Rose broke the kiss, but remained in his arms, which had somehow wrapped themselves around her back, holding her tight against his chest. Rose sighed contentedly, her breath tickling the bare skin of his neck. She looked up at him with her beautiful brown eyes.

"Sing to me, Eli?" she pleaded.

He could not refuse her anything. He tried to think of a song. He recalled a song he had often heard his father sing to his mother.

"**_Say you_'_ll share with me one love_,_ one lifetime_…**"

XxXxX

**Angel: Sorry, Mrs. Butler... Definite RoseEli fluff here... Hey, wouldn't be much of a story if they didn't fall in love, now would it?**

**Erik: (_growls_) Why, that little...**

**Fantine: I think it's cute!**

**Angel: E-cookies await reviewers!**


	11. Murderer

**Angel: This is gonna be a good chapter!**

**Fantine: (_Picks at fingernails_).**

**Erik: (_Snores_).**

**Angel: (_Sniffs indignantly_) Gee, thanks for the support! Oh, well... I have my buddy Eli here to keep me company! (_Glomps Eli_).**

**Eli: _AAAHHHHH_!**

**_11. Murderer_**

Rose could not wait for ballet practice to end the next day. She was going to meet Eli on the roof afterwards. She found herself counting the minutes until they were together again.

The minute practice was over, Rose got changed and made her way to the roof.

"Hello, sweetheart," a voice said mockingly.

Rose stopped and turned. David was there, smirking at her.

"I'm _not_ your sweetheart!" she snapped.

"Oh, I forgot," he smiled cruelly. "You don't go for boys… Tsk, tsk… What a waste of a fine body."

"I never _said_ that, David!" she retorted. "And not that it's any of your business, but I _do_ prefer boys!"

David smirked. "Me thinks the lady doth protest too much… If you really like boys as much as you claim, how is it that you can still deny me?"

"Because there's someone else!" she shouted.

David looked surprised. "S-someone else?"

"A _male_ someone else! I care about him! And no, I'm not going to tell you who!"

David could hardly believe what he was hearing. "How could you like anyone more than _me_?"

"Oh, I don't know… Maybe because he actually has a personality!"

David's expression darkened. He grabbed her arm roughly. "That's not how it's supposed to work! You're supposed to beg me to come back to you to dispel those rumours!"

Rose resisted him. "David! Unhand me this instant! You're hurting me!"

"Am I now? Well, allow me to show you the _real_ meaning of pain!"

David could not act on his threat. In an instant, a black-gloved hand grabbed him around the throat. He was lifted from the floor, gasping for breath as he looked into a masked face and two cold blue eyes.

David passed out. The hand released him and he fell limply to the floor.

Rose let out a breath of relief when she saw the tall dark figure standing in the shadows before her. She should have known that Eli would be keeping an eye on her.

"Oh, thank you," she whispered as she reached out and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his broad chest.

"You're welcome."

Rose froze when she heard his voice. It wasn't Eli's voice…

"Mademoiselle, if you please?" the Phantom said as he gently pushed her a respectable distance away. "This is hardly appropriate."

"I… I'm s-sorry," she stuttered. "I-I-I thought that… y-you were… someone else…"

The Phantom raised an eyebrow. "I am not very easily mistaken for _someone else_…" He cast his gaze down at the unconscious form on the floor. "You're lucky I happened to be nearby. This… _individual_… might have done something rather regrettable had I not come." He raised his face and looked her in the eye. "Do yourself a favour and get an escort to protect you."

"Y-y-yes, Monsieur… of course… thank you once again… I, uh… I must go now!" She turned and ran up to the roof.

The Phantom watched her go. "Nervous little girl…" he muttered to himself as he began his own journey back to his underground lair.

XxXxX

Twenty minutes later, Rose was still shaking in Eli's arms.

"It's uncanny how much you look like him!" she exclaimed for the dozenth time. "If he hadn't spoken, I never would have known the difference! I've never been more scared, Eli! He almost choked David to death right before my eyes!"

"Shh…" Eli whispered, stroking her hair. "It's alright. It's over now. I won't let anyone hurt you."

"E-Eli," she whispered. "Has he… has he always been so… cold?"

Eli was quiet for a minute. "Yes. Yes, he has. But I don't think he ever knew anything else. He's been treated like a freak his whole life." He looked deep into her eyes. "But as cold as he can be, he can also be equally warm… kind… loving… gentle… I think Mother did that to him… He's not as unfeeling as he lets on…"

"I thought he was going to kill David…" she whispered.

"I told you already… my father is not a killer…"

Rose let out a shuddering breath. "Sing to me?" she whispered.

"**_No more talk of darkness. Forget these wide_-_eyed fears. I_'_m here_,_ nothing can harm you_._ My words will warm and calm you_…**"

XxXxX

Raoul de Chagny and his wife were taking a long walk around the theatre.

"I love this place so much," Christine whispered. "So full of memories…"

"**_Let me be your freedom_,**" Raoul sang. "**_Let daylight dry your tears_.**"

Christine smiled as he pressed his lips against her cheek. "Let's go up to the roof…"

XxXxX

Fantine smiled as she felt two strong arms slip around her waist.

"**_I_'_m here_,_ with you_,_ beside you_._ To guard you and to guide you_.**"

"You seem to be in rather fine mood this evening," she commented as Erik nibbled at her earlobe.

"I'm always in a fine mood immediately after I've made a grown boy faint," he chuckled, letting his hands slide up to massage her shoulders.

"That feels nice," she murmured, leaning into his embrace. Erik brought his lips up next to her ear.

"Get your mask… We're going to share a romantic evening under the stars…"

XxXxX

Rose rested her head against Eli's shoulder. "**_Say you_'_ll love me every waking moment_,**" she sang whisper-softly. "**_Turn my head with talk of summertime_…**"

XxXxX

Fantine's fingers entwined with Erik's as they took the secret entrance from the lair up to the roof. "**_Say you need me with you now and always_,**" she sang.

XxXxX

"**_Promise me that all you say is true_,**" Christine begged. "**_That_'_s all I ask of you_…**"

"**_Let me be your shelter_,**" Raoul sang. "**_Let me be your light_…**"

XxXxX

"**_You_'_re safe_,**" Eli told Rose. "**_No one will find you_._ Your fears are far behind you_.**"

"**_All I want is freedom_,**" Rose whispered. "**_A world with no more night_._ And you_,_ always beside me_,_ to hold me and to hide me_.**"

Eli smiled. "**_Then say you_'_ll share with me one love_,_ one lifetime_…**"

XxXxX

"**_Let me lead you from your solitude,_**" Erik whispered. "**_Say you want me with you_,_ here beside you_. _Anywhere you go let me go too_!**"

XxXxX

"**_Christine_,_ that_'_s all I ask of you_…**"

XxXxX

"**_Fantine_,_ that_'_s all I ask of you_…**"

XxXxX

"**_That_'_s all I ask of you_…**" Eli pulled Rose into his arms.

XxXxX

"**_Say you_'_ll share with me one love_,_ one lifetime_,**" Christine sang. "**_Say the word and I will follow you_.**"

She and Raoul where almost at their destination.

XxXxX

"**_Share each day with me_,_ each night_,_ each morning_,**" Erik and Fantine sang to each other as they ascended the final staircase to the roof.

XxXxX

"**_Say you love me_,**" Rose pleaded.

"**_You know I do_,**" Eli assured her.

"**_Love me_,**" they sang together. "**_That_'_s all I ask of you_…**"

Eli lowered his head and kissed her passionately. He smoothed his hands around her waist. She reached up to put her arms around his shoulders. Rose felt secure in his arms. No one could hurt her now…

"Rose!"

Rose spun around to see her parents standing before her. They both looked positively shocked.

"Eli!"

Eli turned to see Erik and Fantine, who had just emerged from the secret entrance on the opposite side of the roof.

"Get away from her!" Raoul shouted, drawing his sword. He lunged at Eli.

"Papa!" Rose cried. "Don't!"

Erik intercepted Raoul's blade with his own, and the two men duelled. Rose and Eli could only watch in helpless fear as their fathers fought back and forth. They became trapped in a death-lock.

"I told you to keep that freak away from her!" Raoul screamed into Erik's face.

Erik gritted his teeth and hooked a leg behind Raoul's knees, tripping the younger man. Raoul's sword flew from his hand as he fell. Erik raised his blade to bring it down upon the Vicomte.

"Papa!" Rose cried.

Eli flew forward, knocking Erik to the ground.

"Elijah!" Erik cried out. "What the Hell are you doing?"

"Stop it!" Eli yelled at his father. "That's enough!"

"Rose!" Christine cried, rushing to her daughter's side. "Did that monster harm you?"

Fantine exploded, getting into the smaller woman's face. "Don't call him a monster!" she screamed. "Not when your little slut was forcing herself upon him!"

"Don't you dare call her that!" Christine screamed back. Her hand balled up into a fist and she punched Fantine as hard as she could in the jaw. Fantine staggered back a few steps. The force of the blow sent her porcelain mask flying. It shattered on the ground. All activity immediately stopped, and everyone stared at Fantine's bared visage.

"Oh, my Lord…" Christine whispered when she saw the extent of her old friend's scars.

Fantine bristled, grabbing Christine by her curly locks. "Just as I suspected!" she growled. "Like mother, like daughter! Tell me, why did you want your husband to return to the Opera Populaire so badly? For the memories? Or are you certain that you didn't just want another opportunity to steal my husband back, like you did eighteen years ago?"

Raoul got to his feet, his perfect brow furrowed in confusion. "Christine? What is she talking about?"

Fantine sneered at Christine, whose lower lip was trembling. "You didn't tell him? I should have known!" She sighed. "It seems, old friend, that you have married a gullible little man!"

Christine's temper flared. "At least I didn't marry a _murderer_!"

Eli stared at Christine. He got off of Erik, jumping to his feet. "Don't call him that!" he growled. "You lying Delilah! My father is not a murderer!"

Raoul looked at Erik. "Is that what you told him?"

Eli turned on Raoul. "Shut up! Just shut up! It's not true!" He looked at Erik. "Tell him! Tell him it's not true!"

Erik opened his mouth, then closed it. He averted his eyes from his son's gaze, staring at the ground.

Eli felt black dread creep into the corners of his heart as realization dawned on him. He started to tremble. "Pl-please? Father? Tell him it isn't true… T-tell _me_… it isn't… Please… Say it! Say it's not true! Please? Please…"

Fantine had since released Christine. She approached her son slowly. "Eli… Please try to understand…"

"Oh, mon Dieu…" Eli whispered. He backed away from Erik, looking at him as though he were a stranger.

"Please, son," Erik said gently. "Let me explain…"

Eli backed away, shaking his head. Rose went to his side, putting her arms around his waist.

"Eli?" she whispered. "It's alright… Everything will be alright…"

Christine gaped at her daughter and the masked boy. "R-Rose…? I… No… No, don't tell me that this boy has your heart!"

Erik slowly approached the young couple. "Elijah… step away from the girl…"

"No!" Eli shouted, pulling Rose closer to him. "I won't let you hurt her!"

"Elijah, listen to me… She will break your heart… Just as her mother broke _mine_!"

"I don't believe you! You're a liar!" Eli glared at his father. "You're a murderer…"

"Elijah, it wasn't like that…"

"Murderer!" Eli repeated.

"Elijah–"

"_Murderer_!"

Eli dashed away, pulling Rose along with him. The couple left the roof, leaving their parents alone.

Christine went to Raoul, who put a protective arm around her waist.

Erik glared at the couple. "I'll deal with you two in my own time…"

Raoul sneered. "I trust we'll meet again soon enough…"

Erik scoffed and grabbed Fantine's arm. "Let's go, Christine…"

Fantine froze in her tracks. "What did you just call me?"

Erik's heart nearly stopped when he realized his mistake. "Fantine… Let's go home…"

Fantine did not move for a very long time. She simply stood and stared at her husband, as though she no longer recognized the man before her. Finally, she allowed him to lead her back through the secret entrance to their lair underground…

XxXxX

**Angel: DUN DUN DUN!**

**Fantine: Oh, dear...**

**Erik: (_Wakes up_) What happened?**


	12. Division

**Angel: Hi! We're back!**

**Erik: Do you have any idea how annoying you are?**

**Angel: Do you have any idea how stupid you are?**

**Erik: You suck.**

**Angel: Oh, well. Enjoy the chapter!**

**_12. Division_**

Rose sat curled up in the catwalks with Eli's head in her lap. He had been sobbing into her skirts for quite some time now. Presently, his tears had subsided and he remained in her arms, somewhat pacified.

He needed time to process what he had just heard. Rose would stay with him, as long as he needed her to. She would wait, until he was ready to return to his lair underground.

There was so much she didn't understand. How did their parents know each other? And why did they hate each other so?

The answers, she knew, would make themselves known only in time…

XxXxX

Erik paced his study furiously. Fantine watched him from the couch.

"This is our fault!" Erik ranted. "We should have kept a closer eye on him! We should have known that there was more behind these behavioural changes! We should never have allowed him to run around by himself on the surface!" Erik paused in the middle of his tirade. "A little input would be appreciated, Fantine!" he spoke acidly.

Fantine did not move from her place on the couch. "What's done is done," she said coldly. "No use belly-aching about it now."

Erik glared at her. "Alright, darling… I have a strong feeling you wish to yell at me."

Fantine's expression remained stony. "I have a strong feeling you know why."

Erik rolled his eyes. "It was a slip of the tongue! You can hardly hold that against me!"

Fantine got to her feet, scowling. "Slip of the tongue? You've never called me '_Christine_' once in eighteen years of marriage!"

"I don't know why it happened!" Erik shouted. "But I imagine it probably had something to do with discovering our son with _their_ daughter! I was a little _shocked_, as I'm sure you're aware!"

"Yes, well I was a little shocked myself when you called me by your former lover's name!"

"Why is this upsetting you so much?" Erik demanded. "It was nothing!"

"Are you so sure of that?" she hissed.

Erik stared her down. "Obviously, I am unable to interpret your complicated _female_ emotions… So why don't you lay it out for me?"

Fantine crossed her arms. "I want the truth, Erik… Are you still in love with Christine?"

Erik looked incredulous. "How can you even ask me that? Christine is _not_ the woman I married!"

Fantine stood mere feet away from him. "And I want to know that you weren't _settling_ when you married me!"

Erik didn't move from his position. "After eighteen years, you can doubt my feelings for you?"

"You said she broke your heart, Erik!"

"She _did_, Fantine! But that was a long time ago! Christine means nothing to me now!"

"It didn't _sound_ like she meant nothing to you back there on the roof!"

"Are you _pregnant again_?"

Fantine stared at him in shocked disgust. "_Excuse_ _me_?"

"The only time I _ever_ remember you being this difficult is when you were expecting! Bloody female _hormones_!"

_Whack_!

Erik nearly spun in place with the force of Fantine's slap across the unmasked side of his face.

"So, what if I am!" she screamed at him. "Now that your pretty lover is back at the opera house I am sure you would rather be with _her_ than with me and this child!"

The sting of her comment was lost on Erik. "You _are_ pregnant?"

"Surprise," she said sarcastically. "I was going to tell you when we were alone on the roof, but nothing has really gone as planned tonight, has it?"

Anger returned to Erik. "And you still think I would choose _Christine_ over you?"

"I'm no Christine!" she shouted. "I'm not a pretty little thing that will bow to your every whim! I guess I've always known that you still cared for her, but some part of me hoped that it didn't mean anything! But now I see it clearly! Tell me, Erik… How did it feel to see our son with what should have been _your_ child?"

Erik's hand rose of its own accord, but he stopped. He realized with shock that he had actually wanted to _hit_ his wife! Shame filled his heart and he quickly dropped his hand.

But Fantine had noticed the movement. "Why not?" she sneered. "Your fist couldn't hurt me any more than your _words_ have!"

Erik glared at her. "I think I'll sleep on the couch tonight!"

"Why don't you just tell me the _truth_?" she cried as he turned to walk away from her. "Why don't you just _admit_ it? You still dream of her, don't you? You still wish you had _her_ instead of _me_! That's _exactly_ how you feel, isn't it?"

Erik's face twisted with fury and he turned on her. "If you truly doubt our love, perhaps you shouldn't have married me!"

Fantine's eyes burned. "Then perhaps you _should_ sleep on the couch!" she yelled. She turned on her heel and stalked out of the study.

Erik swore under his breath. With a resigned sigh, he plopped down onto the couch. Whenever he got angry, he could be such a fool.

XxXxX

"Christine, what have you been keeping from me?" Raoul demanded back at their home.

Christine looked confused. "Wh-what are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Christine! What did Lady Phantom mean when she said that you tried to take her husband back?"

Christine sighed. "Raoul, please don't ask me… It's a time that is dead…"

"Christine, I think I deserve an explanation!"

Christine trembled. "Eighteen years ago… we were going through a hard time in our marriage…"

Raoul nodded. "I remember you were unhappy… but we worked through it!"

"We did… But not before I almost made a terrible mistake…"

Raoul looked grave. "What did you do?"

Christine hung her head. "I returned to _him_… I told him I would stay with him… But… He had fallen in love with someone else… Lady Phantom… Her name is Fantine… She was my childhood friend! He… he told me to return to you… He told me to work things out with you… It saved our marriage, really…"

Raoul swallowed hard. "You went back to him? To _him_?"

"Raoul, please–"

"I gave you my heart! All I have ever wanted is for you to be happy! You made a vow to me, Christine! You promised to love me and cherish me, _forsaking all others_, till death do we part! Well, last I checked, I have not died yet! How could you, Christine? How _could_ you?"

Christine covered her face with her hands. "I don't know… I just don't know… I was so stupid… So stupid…"

Raoul closed his eyes. "If it's all the same to you, I think I'll sleep on the couch tonight!"

Raoul stormed out of the room, leaving Christine sobbing into her hands.

XxXxX

Erik woke late the next morning. His back and neck ached terribly. The couch was not comfortable for sleeping on in the least. He sat up and stretched. His back cracked loudly.

A body on the adjacent couch stirred. Under a pile of blankets, a head with mussed black hair emerged, blue eyes half-open.

"Eli!" Erik exclaimed. "What are you doing sleeping in here?"

Eli yawned. "My bed was occupied…" he said groggily.

"Occupied?" Erik repeated. Then his eyes grew wide. "Don't tell me you brought _her_ back here!"

"_Her_ name is Rose!" Eli said coldly.

"Yes," Erik hissed. "Rose de Chagny! No person bearing that name is welcome in my home!"

"Why do you hate her family so much?" Eli demanded.

Erik shook his head. "You wouldn't understand…"

"_Stop_ treating me like a _child_!" Eli shouted. "Now, tell me! What did you do? Did you kill one of their relatives?"

"No! Nothing like that! Listen to me, son… Some things are better left unsaid."

"That's a coward's way of saying he doesn't want to face his past!" Eli got up from the couch and left the study.

Erik followed after him. "And only a fool speaks of things that he knows nothing about!"

"You ought to practice what you preach, Erik!"

Erik swore under his breath when he saw Fantine step out of their bedroom.

"This does not concern you, Fantine!" he growled.

"Yes, it does!" she snapped. "This is my family, too! Have you forgotten the meaning of that?"

"Eli?" a small timid voice spoke from the boy's room. "What's going on?"

Rose de Chagny's blonde head appeared in the doorway of Eli's room. Her eyes widened when she saw Erik and Fantine – both unmasked.

"Oh, my!" she gasped.

"Rose, it's alright," Eli said gently, going to her side. He took her hand and held her close. "They won't hurt you… I won't let them… I promise…"

"You see _that_, Elijah?" Erik shouted. "_This_ is _exactly_ why I don't want you to have anything to do with that girl! She judges us before she even _knows_ us! She's exactly like everyone else!"

Erik advanced upon the couple. Rose clung tightly to Eli, trembling in his arms.

"Do you think she'll want anything to do with the Son of the Phantom?" Erik demanded. "Do you think she could still care for you after what she has seen? Do you think she could ever want to be a part of _this_ family?"

"Stop it!" Eli shouted at him.

"Do you think she'll let the likes of you touch her? Do you dare to dream she might give up her high-class lifestyle for this dark Hell? For _you_? _No_ woman will ever want _you_! She would sooner die than give herself to _you_!"

"Father, stop it! You're scaring her!"

"Yes, Elijah! We are Phantoms! That is what we do! We scare people! And do you know why? Because people are too shallow to see beyond the mask! You know this! No one will ever want to be your friend or lover! We stand alone!"

"_You_ stand alone!" Eli shouted. "I choose Rose!"

Erik gritted his teeth. "If that is your choice, then to Hell with you! Take your pretty lover and go! But don't expect _anyone_ to ever accept you! This is your curse! You have my bad blood! You are _not_ a normal man! You are my son!"

"God help me," Eli said coldly as he led Rose away. The young couple stepped into the boat and Eli steered it from the lair.

"That boy is an utter fool!" Erik growled, half to himself, half to Fantine.

"No, he isn't." Her reply surprised Erik. He turned to meet her cold gaze.

"What crawled down your bodice and died?" he growled.

Fantine eyes darkened at his comment. How dare he? "The only fool here is the one who just shunned his own flesh and blood!"

Erik glared at her. "So you think it wise? You think he should pursue that de Chagny girl? Need I remind you what you said to me all those years ago? 'He deserves a normal life, but no one will ever accept him!' And why not? That scene on the roof last night was a classic example of _why not_!"

Fantine gritted her teeth. "I know what I said… And though I do not agree with his choice, I must respect it. What are we to do? He's in love with her! Such things happen!"

Erik became rigid. He brought his face within an inch of Fantine's.

"Don't…" he hissed dangerously. "Don't you _dare_ say that! He is _not_ in love with her!"

"Yes, he is!" Fantine insisted. "You just don't want him to be! Admit it, Erik! You don't want him to have anything to do with that girl! Not because you're concerned for Eli, but because you hate the people who raised the girl!"

"Yes, Fantine! I hate them! I hate that girl, I hate her fop of a father, and I hate Christine!" He glared at her. "I _don_'_t_ love her, Fantine! Why can't you see that?"

Fantine stared at the floor, but her expression remained cold. Finally, without a word, she turned and returned to her bedroom. Erik sighed heavily and returned to his study. Was his family breaking apart before his very eyes?

XxXxX

**Angel: Oh! The tension! May I say, Erik, that it's about time you and Fantine had a knock-down, drag-out fight.**

**Erik: Ah, so we finally agree on something? When do I kick her out of my lair?**

**Angel: You're not kicking her out of the lair!**

**Erik: But I kicked my son out of the lair!**

**Angel: Yeah, well, he'll be back... You know he will...**

**Erik: Whatever...**

**Angel: REVIEW PEOPLE!**


	13. The Face of the Past

**Angel: I've run out of smart-alecky things to say...**

**Erik: Yeah... Me too...**

**Angel: Oh, well... Enjoy!**

_13. The Face of the Past_

It was evening before Fantine left her room. She glanced at the study. Erik had shut the door. All was silent in the room.

Fantine sighed heavily. She was so angry with herself. She had behaved foolishly, like a suspicious, possessive housewife. She had no reason to be so jealous of Christine. She knew that Erik loved her and would never do anything to hurt her. But she still hated Christine with all her heart, and seethed at just the possibility that Erik still had feelings for her.

Old habits die hard…

Fantine sighed again. She felt the sudden need for a brandy. Erik never kept liquor in the house anymore, but each passing moment found Fantine craving an escape from her misery more and more.

Fantine went back to her room to get her mask – it was a new leather one to replace her shattered porcelain. She slipped the warm leather onto her face and headed for the boat…

XxXxX

Eli sat curled up at the foot of Apollo's lyre. He had seen Rose to her dorm room earlier. Tomorrow, they would figure out what to do. As of now, Eli had nowhere to go. His father had shunned him… He wasn't very confident that he could count on the Vicomte or Vicomtesse de Chagny to help him, either…

Eli wasn't sure of anything anymore. His father, the man he had idolized and admired since he was just a small child, was a murderer. Eli found himself thinking morbid thoughts… He began to wonder just how many people had died by his father's hands… How much blood was he responsible for spilling?

And what role had his mother played in all of this? Her past was even more mysterious than his father's. Who was she? Who was Erik? How did they come to be the Phantoms of the Opera Populaire?

Eli sighed. He knew nothing of his background. He didn't know why he had to live his life in darkness. He didn't know why he couldn't be _normal_! He didn't even know who he really was.

All he knew was that he loved Rose…

He loved her…

And she loved him…

The cold wind blew. Eli pulled his cloak tight around his shoulders. How he yearned for a warm bed.

"On a night like this, you won't survive to morning," a voice beside him said.

Eli snapped his head around to look at the speaker. Erik was sitting right beside him, his gaze fixed on the stars.

Eli hadn't even noticed him sit down!

"How… how long have you been sitting there?" Eli asked.

"Long enough to know that it's freezing out here!" Erik scoffed. He continued to stare at the stars. "Your mother and I shared our first kiss on a night much like tonight."

Eli said nothing. "_So did Rose and I_," he thought.

"Where's your pretty lover?" Erik asked coldly.

"In her room," Eli replied. "Asleep."

Erik was quiet for awhile. "Son," he said finally, "I know she is a lovely young woman… I know that her voice is beautiful and her form appealing, but one should not give his love to another based on those characteristics alone…"

"That's not why I love her," Eli said. "Yes, her voice is good… Yes, she is the most beautiful creature I've ever seen… But she's so much more than that! She makes me happy… She makes me feel _normal_."

Erik was silent again. "I understand…" he said.

"Does Mother do that for you?" Eli asked. "Does she make you feel normal?"

Erik sighed. "Yes… Yes, she does…"

"Then you know how I feel," Eli said with finality.

Erik looked at him. "That was different," he said. "Your mother and I are the same… We are both creatures of darkness… We belonged together… We found _acceptance_ in each other… You are a Child of Darkness, Elijah. You can't thrive in a world of light."

Erik stood up and walked to the edge of the roof. He gestured for Eli to follow. Eli went to stand beside his father. He looked down at the streets of Paris, where tiny figures and small carriages made their way about the streets.

"You see those people down there?" Erik asked. "They will never understand us… They will never accept us… Their ways are not our ways…" He looked at Eli. "She's one of them… Don't you see? There's no future for you with her… You don't belong with her."

Eli sighed. "Sir, will I never be allowed to be happy?"

Erik stared at the ground. "Perhaps we should all learn to be lonely."

Eli said nothing. The two men stood in silence for what seemed like eternity.

"Come," Erik said finally. "Let's go home."

"I thought you kicked me out," Eli said as Erik turned to return to the lair.

"Oh, come now, my boy," Erik said. "What kind of cold-hearted monster do you think I am? You're my son!"

"And as your son one would think that you would _want_ me to find happiness!" Eli said acidly.

Erik glared at him. "Do you want a bloody bed to sleep in or not?"

Eli hesitated. He did not want to spend the night in the freezing cold, and a warm bed sounded much more preferable. Yet part of him shied away at the thought of following a murderer into his dark domain.

Eli's mind wrestled with his heart.

"_He_'_s your father_!" his heart exclaimed. "_He would never cause you harm_!"

"_He_'_s a murderer_!" reason protested. "_He lusts for blood_!_ He thrives on other people_'_s pain_!_ He cannot be trusted_!"

"_He_'_s a man_!" his heart argued. "_Your teacher_!_ Your parent_!_ He raised you_!_ His blood runs in your veins_!"

"_He_'_s a Phantom_!" reason shot back. "_A ghost_!_ A demon_!_ A **monster**_!"

"_But he loves you_," they both agreed.

"Come now," Erik said softly, putting an arm across Eli's shoulders. "You're not staying out here… Come home…"

Without another word, Erik led his son back to their lair.

XxXxX

Fantine entered the saloon. It was rather quiet inside. A few drunks lay sprawled across their tables, muttering amongst themselves. The room was dimly lit and the air was thick with the smell of cigar smoke.

Fantine walked over to the counter. A man sat alone on a stool, mumbling to himself over a mug of whiskey. His suit was rumpled and dirty, he had a thick beard, his hair was unkempt, and he had a rather repulsive body odour.

"She left me," he muttered. "She left me."

Fantine sat a few seats away from the pathetic-looking man. The bartender – a short, pudgy man – greeted her.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"A brandy, please."

The bartender nodded and filled a glass for her. "Say," he grinned. "Are you some amazingly beautiful princess that you have to wear that mask to keep men from passing out when they look at you?"

Fantine scowled. "Hardly."

"So what's a nice lady like you doing in a place like this?" the bartender asked.

"I'm just trying to calm my nerves," she replied. "Not that it's any of your business."

"You know," the bartender said, leaning in close, "_I_ could calm your nerves for you!"

"Save it, Don Juan!" she growled. "I happen to be married!"

The bartender's eyes lit up. "Ah-ha! So that's your problem! You had a fight with your husband!" He seemed disturbingly delighted.

"This conversation ends here!" she snapped. "I am not one of your inebriated patrons willing to share my life's tragic story with you!"

The bartender raised his hands, a gesture of submission. "Fine, then. Bottle it up. But when you're ready to talk, I'm here."

He left her alone after that. Fantine gave a sigh of relief and turned to her drink. She was about to take a sip, but then stopped.

"_What the Hell am I doing_?" she wondered. "_I_'_m pregnant_!" With a sigh, she put the drink down and simply stared at it. She sat at the bar for the longest time, just thinking.

"_I love Erik_," she thought. "_And I know he loves me_._ How did this whole stupid fight happen_?_ He called me Christine_…_ So what_?_ I should have believed him when he said it meant nothing_…"

Fantine sighed and rested her chin in her hand. "_Erik_'_s right_…_ Bloody hormones_…_ I remember how it was when I was carrying Elijah_._ Almost anything could set me off_._ Erik was practically walking on eggshells for nine months_._ I sometimes wonder if the pregnancy was harder on me or on him_." She absently stirred her finger in her untouched drink. "_I want to have this child with Erik_._ I can_'_t imagine wanting it with anyone else_!_ I should go to him_…_ I should tell him how I feel_…"

After some time, she froze. Her gut told her that something was up. She turned and saw the drunken man beside her. He had stopped muttering to himself and sat perfectly still, staring at her.

Fantine shrugged and returned to her musings. Several long moments passed. The man still stared. Fantine was starting to feel unnerved. She quickly threw a few francs onto the bar and left the saloon.

"_I just want to see Erik_," she thought. She began making her way back to the theatre. She was almost home when she sensed a presence behind her. She turned to look over her shoulder.

The drunk man was staggering along after her! Fantine grew afraid. She quickened her pace. The drunk man walked faster. Fantine broke into a run. The man stumbled along behind. Fantine ran faster and faster until she reached the front steps of the Opera Populaire. She turned around and looked about. There was no one around.

"_I guess I lost him_," Fantine thought triumphantly. She leaned against one of the giant pillars of the Opera Populaire, taking a moment to catch her breath. She felt a cramp in her side.

"Bloody Hell," she cursed as she held her side.

A sweaty had grabbed Fantine's arm. She turned and found herself looking into the glazed eyes of the man who had pursued her earlier.

"I knew you'd come here!" he slurred.

"Let go of me!" she demanded. "What do you want?"

The man said nothing, but calmly reached up and removed her mask.

"What are you _doing_?" she shrieked. "Give that back!"

"Fanny! It _is_ you!"

Fantine froze. She looked into the man's eyes, saw past the scruffy exterior, saw through the years.

"Oh, God," she whispered. "God, no!"

XxXxX

**Angel: Three guesses who the drunkard is?**

**Erik: Could his name start with an 'A?'**

**Angel: Push the pretty periwinkle button at the bottom of the screen. The one that says "Review." Come on... It's so pretty and periwinkle... You know you want to...**


	14. Reconciliation and Hatred

**Angel: Guess what? Erik and I are going to watch _Dear Frankie_ tonight! Muhehehehe!**

**Erik: You're the Devil.**

**Angel: Enjoy the chapter!**

_**14. Reconciliation and Hatred**_

"Albert," Fantine whispered as she looked into the eyes of her former fiancé.

"Fanny!" he slurred, a lop-sided smile on his face. "You came back! I always knew you'd come back!" In a flash, Albert's mouth was upon hers. Fantine recoiled from him. His breath was heavily laced with the smell of whiskey.

"Fanny?" Albert said as she pulled away from him. "What's wrong?"

"I can't do this, Albert," she whispered.

"Fanny, I was never scared of your face!" Albert pleaded. "I loved you! I _still_ do!" He touched her marred cheek. "_This_ means nothing to me. I love _you_!"

Fantine's heart ached for the poor man. "Albert," she whispered. "I–"

"Don't worry," he told her. "We can still share our lives together! We can get married right away! I'll get a church! We'll–"

"Albert, please!" Fantine cried. "I can't marry you!"

Albert furrowed his brow. "But Fanny," he whispered. "Don't you see? I'm not disgusted by your face! You don't have to hide from me!"

"It's not that," she said softly, tears pricking at her eyes. "Albert… I'm already married!"

Albert drew back from her as though she had just slapped him. "Wh-what?" he whimpered.

Tears spilled down Fantine's scarred cheeks. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry! I never meant to hurt you… I thought if I left you that you would move on and continue to live your life without me." Fantine closed her eyes. "Five years after my accident, I met someone. We shared something inexplicable. Something unique… We fell in love and got married. We had a child! I have a family, Albert! I can't stay with you."

"But… but…" Albert whimpered, tears falling from the corners of his eyes. "I love you… I've waited for you…"

Fantine took his face into her hands. "But now you must get _over_ me… Stop wasting your life! Learn how to live again!"

Albert gazed at her forlornly. "But how can I do that without _you_?"

"One day at a time," she whispered. She took his hand, leading him away. "Come… We have a lot to talk about…"

XxXxX

Fantine did not return to the lair until the wee hours of the morning. She had spent the last several hours with Albert. After some time, she left him to salvage what was left of his pitiful life.

Fantine wept as she left the boat and ran to her room. She threw herself onto her bed and cried into the pillows. She felt so guilty for the great wrong that she had done to Albert. The man had been sophisticated and intelligent, working for a successful law firm in the city. When she left him, he was reduced to a pathetic drunk in a bar. It was her fault. She could only hope that he would take her advice and begin his life anew.

Fantine got up and removed her boots and her mask. She changed out of her dress and into a dressing gown. She slipped beneath the covers of the bed and laid down, hoping to get a few hours of sleep before morning. Fantine couldn't stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks as she buried her face into the pillows. The linens smelled like Erik. She missed him so much!

Fantine tossed and turned repeatedly. She had never spent a night alone in the eighteen years that she had been married to Erik. She found it so difficult to get comfortable without his arms around her.

After some time, Fantine found herself in a state somewhere between consciousness and sleep. She thought she heard someone enter the room. After a moment, there was a weight on the bed next to her as something slipped beneath the sheets. Fantine gasped as she felt two strong arms wrap around her waist and tug her close.

"That couch wouldn't be so bad if only I had _you_ next to me," a voice whispered into her ear. "I missed you, darling."

"Erik!" Fantine sobbed out loud, turning to bury her face into his chest.

"Shh…" he whispered as he gently stroked her hair. "It's alright. I'm here."

"Erik, I'm so sorry!" she cried.

"I'm sorry, too."

Fantine clung to him like he was her lifeline. Relief flooded her soul and she felt herself relax in his arms. In his presence, her fears and insecurities vanished. She was safe now…

"I love you, Erik," she whispered.

"I love you too, Fantine," he replied as he pressed his lips against her forehead. He reached between them and rested his palm on her abdomen, where a little life was growing. He exhaled deeply, his breath tickling the bare skin of her neck.

"Sing to me?" she pleaded.

"**_Say you_'_ll share with me one love_,_ one lifetime_…**"

XxXxX

The next night, Eli stood alone on the roof. He had left a note in Rose's dressing room earlier that day, asking her to meet him there. He wanted to continue to see her, in secret. He knew her parents would never approve of her coming to meet him, so he had told her in the note not to tell _anyone_ of their rendezvous.

_His_ parents would not be pleased if they learned of these secret meetings, either. Erik was constantly reminding him that he could never have a normal life with Rose. But Eli couldn't accept that. He needed to be with her. A normal life would mean little if the one person who made him happy was not a part of it.

At least his parents had reconciled. Eli had never seen his parents fight so bitterly as they had after they discovered him on the roof with Rose. For that, he couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

And as it turned out, he was about to become a big brother! Eli wouldn't have seen that one coming in a hundred years. When he was young he used to think it would be nice to have a little sibling to keep him company. But as he got older, that possibility seemed less and less likely. But now he was going to have a younger brother or sister! All he wished was that the little life growing in his mother's womb would not have to suffer alone in the darkness for all of its life like _he_ had.

"_If only our worlds could unite and merge_," Eli thought. "_Why must we stand divided_?"

Eli's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the cold concrete of the roof.

"Rose?" he called. "Is that you?"

He stood up to greet her and found himself face-to-face, not with Rose, but with her father – the Vicomte de Chagny!

The Vicomte was dressed in fine clothing, his hair tied back into a neat ponytail with not a lock out of place. His face was smooth and perfect, and currently twisted into a scowl.

"_Geez_,_ this man practically has _'_fop_'_ written all over his perfect little face_!" Eli thought.

In one hand, the Vicomte clutched a crumpled piece of paper.

"_My letter to Rose_!" Eli realized.

Raoul drew his sword. Eli drew back from the older man, fear tugging at his heart. The Vicomte hated him, he knew… And this time, Erik wasn't there to defend him!

"M-Monsieur le Vicomte," Eli said shakily, trying to sound as respectful as his pride would allow.

"You little demon," Raoul growled, prodding Eli in the stomach with his sword, making the boy back up against the statue of Apollo. "You cursed monster! Your family has caused me untold suffering!"

"I-I-I'm s-sorry, sir!" Eli stammered.

"Sorry, are you?" Raoul snarled. "Do you even know what you're sorry _for_?"

Eli was silent. His parents' sins were still a mystery to him.

"I thought not," Raoul sneered. "Your murderous father never told you the truth!" Raoul lowered his voice. "Would you like to know the truth? Your father preyed upon my wife for years! He sought to make her his bride, and was willing to even kill to get what he wanted from her!" Raoul scowled. "He tried to stand between me and Christine. He tried to kill _me_! A wonder he let us go. Probably the most human thing he'd ever done!"

Raoul lowered his voice, bringing his face within inches of Eli's. "I love my wife," he hissed. "I gave her everything a woman could want! But that wasn't good enough! She returned to your father! She was going to leave me for _him_! But you see," Raoul smirked, "your father had already found a replacement for Christine… Your mother! God, the woman is so hideous it's no _wonder_ she stayed with him! I'll bet he's the only man who will even _touch_ her!"

Eli wanted to strike the Vicomte for saying such things about his mother. But the sharpness of the Vicomte's sword jabbing into his belly reminded him to remain silent.

"You Phantoms have been nothing but trouble!" Raoul continued. "And now," he held up the note, "now you dare to even go _near_ my daughter? To plot and scheme with her behind our backs? To entice her to deceive her own family? To turn her into some creature of darkness? To drag her down to your cave – just as your father did with my wife! – and force her into becoming your bride? To continue your father's evil legacy?"

"Monsieur, please," Eli begged. "I would never harm Rose!"

"You're right!" Raoul snarled. "Because _I_'_m_ not going to give you the chance! Your father's wicked bloodline ends here!"

Eli gasped as he felt cold steel thrust through his abdomen, sending pain through his body like nothing he had ever experienced before. He clutched his stomach and felt warm, sticky liquid spill over his fingers. He felt faint… weak… His knees gave out and he fell to the cold ground. His vision blurred and then all grew dark as he fell into oblivion.

XxXxX

"_Go up to the roof_."

That persistent voice in Erik's head had not been quiet for the past ten minutes. He tried in vain to play the organ, but the voice allowed him no peace.

"_Go up to the roof_."

Erik was not unfamiliar with this nagging twist in the pit of his stomach. It was almost like a sixth sense that alerted him to danger when he was a younger man. And when he became a father, it always told him when Eli was getting into some sort of mischief.

Fantine called it father's intuition. Erik called it gut instinct.

"_Go up to the roof_."

Erik sighed resignedly and fetched his cloak, taking the secret entrance up to the roof. If it would silence the persistent voice, he was willing to take a short walk just to verify that nothing was wrong.

Erik stepped out onto the roof. The air was cool and crisp. Snow was gently falling. Erik looked around. All appeared well.

He was about to leave when a soft moan reached his ears. He stopped dead in his tracks.

Erik followed the sound and rounded Apollo's lyre. He saw a dark form on the ground.

Was it some kind of animal?

The metallic scent of blood reached his nose. Erik approached the form slowly. Taking a deep breath, he reached out and rolled the thing over onto its back…

Then Erik was certain that his heart had stopped beating…

"Elijah!" he cried.

The boy lay with his hands clutching his stomach. His fingers were caked with blood. Erik tore his hands away and ripped open his shirt. There was a six-inch slice across Eli's stomach, which was bleeding profusely.

In a flash, Erik whipped off his cloak and held it against Eli's stomach in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding.

"Elijah!" Erik cried. "Can you hear me?"

Eli's eyes fluttered open. He struggled to focus on Erik's face.

"P-P-Papa?" he whimpered. "I'm… c-cold…"

Erik scooped his son up into his arms and cradled him against his chest, just as he used to when Eli was an infant.

"Everything will be alright, Elijah," Erik told his son as he raced back inside. "Please just hang on!"

Eli moaned and fell back into unconsciousness.

XxXxX

**Angel: OH NOOOOOOO!**

**Erik: You're gonna get flamed for that.**

**Angel: What? Oh no... Not the flames! Anything but the flames! No! Don't touch the periwinkle button! Don't flame me! _AHHHHH_!**

**Erik: Drama Queen...**


	15. Thoughts of Revenge

**Angel: Whew! I didn't get flamed much...**

**Erik: Then I shall flame you now... This story sucks, and I would like to know what poor excuse for an authoress you consider yourself to even have the nerve to post this.**

**Angel: You're a big jerk!**

**Erik: (_sarcastically_) Oh, no! She called me a jerk! Whatever will I do?**

**Angel: You can sit down, shut up, and read this chapter.**

**Erik: Only if I get free popcorn...**

**_15. Thoughts of Revenge_**

Erik sat on the edge of his bed and held Fantine while she sobbed in his arms. No words he could speak would dry this mother's tears. Only the speedy recovery of her son could do that.

Erik had taken Eli to Mesdames Giry and Romard. He knew that the women would know what to do. Right now, Eli was in Meg Romard's private room. A doctor had been called to tend to the boy. All Erik and Fantine could do was wait.

Neither had slept at all through the night. Erik's earlier dread for his only son was currently over-matched by his anger. He knew who was responsible for his son's attempted murder. Only one man was cowardly enough to attack a boy!

Erik found himself thinking horrible, vengeful thoughts. He had not killed in over twenty years, but how he desired to do so now. How he wanted to track down the Vicomte de Chagny, put his Punjab lasso over his head and snap his feeble neck!

Ah, but then he would not suffer nearly enough. He deserved to feel the pain that Erik was feeling right now! Erik's thoughts strayed to the young de Chagny girl. How tragic it would be indeed if the Vicomte were to lose his only child…

Erik shook the thought from his head. He couldn't. Not to the girl. It would be cowardly. It would make him no better than the Vicomte. Worse, for the young de Chagny was a woman.

Erik thought of his son. There had been so much blood. The air had been saturated with the smell of it. Erik remembered when Eli was a child. One time he slipped in the lair and skinned his knee on the stones. He had bled. Erik had spent most of his life wallowing in blood, but the sight of the blood of his only child – even just a little of it – was enough to make him want to vomit. Fantine had known what to do. She tended to the boy and then reminded Erik that skinned knees and scraped elbows were natural occurrences for playful young boys.

But Fantine could offer him no words of comfort now. He rocked her gently as she cried into his chest.

"Erik? Fanny?" Meg Romard's voice echoed in the deathly silence of the lair.

"Wait here," Erik muttered to his wife as he stood up and left the room. He entered the main room just as Meg landed the boat on the shore.

"Madame Romard," Erik nodded in greeting. He offered a hand out and helped her step from the boat onto dry land.

"How's Fanny doing?" she asked. "She was pretty upset when she found out. This kind of stress can't be good for her baby." Meg found out about Fantine's condition earlier the day before. She couldn't believe how cruel fate had been to take what should have been a joyous occasion for this family and turned it into tragedy and heartache.

"She'll be fine," Erik answered, "as soon as our boy is well." He looked at her critically. "Tell me first. I want to know what the situation is before you tell Fantine."

Meg sighed. "It was touch and go for a while, I won't lie to you. But he'll be alright. He's sleeping right now. He won't wake for a while. He lost a lot of blood. If you hadn't found him when you did…" she trailed off.

"When can we see him?" Erik asked.

"Come to my room tomorrow night," she said. "He ought to be awake by then."

Erik nodded. "Thank you, Madame. You have been a great deal of help."

"It's nothing," Meg offered a slight smile.

"It's everything," Erik insisted.

Meg bowed her head humbly. "If you'll excuse me now, I must tend to your son." She curtsied and returned to the boat.

Erik turned and went back to the room where Fantine was waiting.

"He'll be fine," was all he said.

Fantine buried her face in her hands and began crying fresh tears… This time, tears of relief…

Erik turned from her stared out into the darkness of his liar. "Donc, ils veulent la guerre?" he muttered to himself. "C'est bon, ils l'ont…"

XxXxX

Meg headed to ballet rehearsal after checking up on Eli. Her mother would stay with him while she was away, just in case he woke up.

Meg feared that she would not be able to concentrate at the rehearsal today. Her thoughts were possessed by Eli. Who could harm such a sweet boy, even if he _was_ the Son of the Phantom? Meg sensed that Erik knew, but the man remained closed and silent. All that mattered to him now was that his son would fully recover.

Meg was intrigued. It was unlike that Phantoms to keep secrets from her. Ever since the near disaster eighteen years ago when Erik and Fantine declared their love for each other at last, the Phantoms had remained close friends with the Romards. They confided in Meg and Robert like they did with no one else.

Why was Erik being so secretive now?

Meg was shaken from her thoughts when she noticed Rose de Chagny dance out of step. She didn't seem to be paying attention.

"Rose de Chagny!" Meg said sharply. "Concentrate, girl!"

Rose mumbled and apology and continued to dance. Again, she fell out of step. In fact, she made several mistakes during the rehearsal. Meg found this odd. Rose was one of her best dancers! Silly mistakes were not like her.

Normally, Meg would have asked Christine if there was something wrong with Rose that might explain why she was acting so strangely. But Meg was not as close to Christine as once she was. Meg's job as ballet mistress demanded most of her time. And as a Vicomtesse, Christine was required to attend many social events and gatherings with her husband. She and Meg rarely spoke anymore.

Meg would just have to ask Rose what was bothering her…

Meg called Rose aside after the rehearsal ended. "Dear, is something wrong?" she asked. "You made a lot of mistakes today. It's not like you."

Rose hung her head. "I'm sorry, Madame. I've had a lot on my mind, lately."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Rose shifted from one foot to the other. "Well, my parents have been fighting… Papa's mad at Mama… He's been sleeping on the couch… They've barely spoken in days!"

"I'm sorry to hear that," Meg said. "But I'm sure that they'll work things out. Just give it time."

"It's more than that," Rose said. She paused, looking around, and then lowered her voice. "Madame? Can I confide in you?"

"Of course you can, my dear."

"You must promise not to tell anyone!"

"I promise…"

Rose exhaled. "I met this boy…"

"Ah, a boy, is it?" Meg said with a smile.

Rose continued. "He's very nice… Gentle… Kind… He's always there… He makes me feel safe… Like nothing in the world matters but him and I… Madame, I'm in love with him!"

"That's very nice, Rose," Meg said. "I'm happy for you."

"But… my parents don't want me to see him… They say he comes from a bad family… They don't like his parents… People say that his father is a murderer!"

Meg gasped. What kind of boy had she fallen for?

"His father frightens me so much," Rose said. "He seems so… cruel… I'm told he's not as awful as all that, but he still scares me!" Rose paused. "But this boy… He's nothing at all like his father! He'd never hurt anyone! I know he wouldn't!"

"Rose," Meg whispered. "Who is this boy?"

Rose hesitated. "This will sound completely insane, but I swear to you it's the truth…" Rose sighed. "He's… he's the… the Son of the Phantom!"

"Eli!" Meg gasped before she could prevent the name from escaping her lips.

Rose's eyes widened. "You… you _know_ him?"

Meg closed her eyes. "One of only a few who do."  
So this was Erik's big secret. He must have found out somehow that Eli was seeing the daughter of his former lover. No doubt he would not have been pleased. And Rose's parents would certainly not want their only child associating with the son of the man who had wreaked havoc on the Opera Populaire for years… The man who had murdered and sabotaged without remorse…

Meg thought of Eli. The doctor had said that his wound had been caused by some kind of blade… like a dagger or a sword…

Raoul de Chagny was quite skilled with the sword… Could he possibly…?

What if Erik had drawn the same conclusion? The Vicomte certainly had the means, motive, and opportunity. And if Meg knew Erik, he would not simply let this matter drop.

Which meant Rose and her family were in extreme danger…

"Where is he?" Rose asked. "I haven't seen him all day! Is he alright?"

Meg swallowed hard. "Rose… Eli was hurt last night… Someone attacked him…"

Rose's eyes widened. "Is he alright? Who would do such a thing?"

"I don't know… But I have reason to believe that his father may think that you or your parents had something to do with it."

"But we didn't!" Rose cried. "I swear, we didn't!"

"It's not me you have to convince," Meg said. "It's Erik."

Rose clutched Meg's shoulders. "Take me to him!"

"I can't do that, Rose," Meg whispered. It was starting to get late. She couldn't take Rose to see Eli. Not when his parents could be arriving at any moment.

"Take me to him!" Rose demanded. "You must! Please! I need to see him! I _need_ to!"

Meg hesitated. "Al-alright," she gave in. "But you can only stay for a little while. You must be in and out quickly."

Rose nodded and the two women headed for Meg's private room.

XxXxX

**In case you were wondering what Erik said earlier, here's the translation:**

**"_Donc_, _ils_ _veulent la guerre_? _C_'_est_ _bon_, _ils_ _l_'_ont_…"**

**"So, they want war? Very well, they have it…"**

**Now... Review!**


	16. Leave!

**Angel: Twenty-eight more days till school's over... Twenty-eight more days till school's over...**

**Erik: Ninety-nine more days before Angel goes away to university...**

**Angel: Hey! You're coming with me!**

**Erik: But what about my closet?**

**Angel: You'll live under my bed!**

**Erik: That's cold.**

**Angel: I know... Enjoy the chappie!**

**_16. Leave!_**

Madame Giry left Eli's bedside when she heard a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" she called.

"A ghost," said a familiar voice.

Madame Giry opened the door and let Erik and Fantine inside.

"How is he?" Erik asked. Fantine went immediately to her son's side.

"He's doing better, but he hasn't stirred yet."

Erik approached the sleeping boy. He looked remarkably better than when Erik had first brought him to Madame Giry and Meg. He had been sickly pale, then… Now, a flush of colour appeared on his cheeks.

"Will he wake soon?" Erik asked.

"I imagine so," Madame Giry replied. "The doctor left some morphine for the pain."

Erik pulled back the blankets to reveal a long red line along Eli's stomach, sewn together with neat, black stitches.

"He's not supposed to exert himself for the next couple weeks. He might pull a stitch."

"The trick will be keeping him in bed," Fantine smiled for the first time all day. "He hates being pampered… Just like his father…"

"And it seems he's developed a certain talent for getting himself into trouble," Madame Giry said. "Just like his father…"

Erik scowled. "My boy was attacked by that coward of a Vicomte! He wounded an unarmed boy! Had my son been carrying a sword, it would be that fop who would have gotten cold steel in the belly!"

"How can you be so sure that Raoul de Chagny is responsible for this?" Madame Giry asked.

"Who else?" Erik hissed. "Who else would try to kill my son? _My_ son?"

Madame Giry shook her head. "But why? Why would the Vicomte attack a boy? I could understand him going after _you_, Erik… But Eli? What's his motive?"

Erik sighed. "It's the girl…"

"The girl?" Before Madame Giry could ask him what he meant by that, there was a knock at the door. She excused herself and walked over to the door. "Who is it?" she called.

"It's me, Mama," Meg Romard's voice answered.

"Ah, good. She's home." Madame Giry opened the door and Meg stepped inside… followed by Rose de Chagny!

Erik visibly stiffened when he saw the girl. Fantine jumped to her feet. When Rose saw the Phantoms, she gasped and hid behind Meg.

"Madame Romard," Erik growled. "What is _she_ doing here?"

Rose paled. "I… I just… wanted to see him…"

"You wanted to _see him_?" Erik snarled. "Very well!" He reached past Meg and roughly grabbed Rose by the wrist. He dragged her over to the bed and pointed at Eli's unconscious form. "_Look_, then! See what you've done? You planned this, _didn_'_t you_? You lured him with your declarations of love, making him think that your feelings were true and sincere! And once you had his loyalty and love, you sent him straight into a trap! You unleashed your fiendish father upon him to murder him! You are your father's accomplice in this affair!"

Rose shook her head, trying desperately to wrench her arm from Erik's grasp. "No! No!" she cried. "I swear it's not true! I would never hurt Eli! I love him!"

"_Love him_?" Erik laughed coldly. "You don't even know what love _is_! You have no business cavorting about with my son as though he were your soul-mate!"

Rose looked at him, her expression calm. "Why do you hate me so much?"

Erik said nothing, throwing her arm down and turning his back on her. "I want you to leave," he growled.

"Very well," Rose said coldly. "I came only to see how Eli was doing. Now that I've seen him, there's no reason for me to stay any longer." Rose turned on her heel and headed for the door.

"That's not what I meant," Erik said, turning to face her. Rose stopped and looked at him. "I want you to leave this theatre… and never come back!"

Rose felt like she'd just been slapped. "_What_?" she cried. "How can you even ask me to do that?"

"I wasn't _asking_," Erik said coldly. "This is _my_ theatre. _I_ decide who stays and who goes. I want you out!"

Rose's heart was heavy with fear, but she stood her ground and glared at Erik defiantly. "And what if I _don_'_t_ do what you want? What then?"

Erik sneered. "Then your lovely _parents_ will pay the price!"

Rose's brave front dissolved. "My… parents?"

Erik approached her slowly. "Your father tried to murder my son! Why shouldn't I want to kill him? He's been a thorn in my side for years, and now I have the perfect excuse! Of course, then your mother would run around screaming bloody murder and lead a mob down to my lair once again, so I'd have to do away with _her_ as well!" Erik smirked. "Would you like that, Mademoiselle de Chagny? Will you sacrifice your parents' lives for your own selfish desires?"

Rose inhaled deeply, trying to conjure up the last of her courage. "I… I know the way to your lair, too," she said shakily. "If you kill them, I'll… I'll tell… I swear, I'll tell the police and make you pay!"

"And you think I'd have any qualms about killing _you_ as well?" Erik asked, the smirk never leaving his lips. "It's your choice, Mademoiselle de Chagny. Stay, and destroy your life and the lives of your parents. Leave, and I will spare your family."

Rose felt tears sting her eyes as she looked into Erik's masked face. "How could anyone as kind and gentle as Eli be fathered by someone as heartless as _you_?" she spat.

"Make your choice!" Erik snapped. "My patience is wearing thin!"

Rose was speechless. What could she do? If she left, she lost Eli. If she stayed, Eli would lose _her_.

Rose started to cry. "Leave them alone," she whimpered. "Just leave them alone!"

"I want your promise, Mademoiselle," Erik said. "Say it!"

Rose took in a choking breath. "Alright… You win… I'll leave…"

"And you must be dead to him!" Erik said. "He must never see you again!"

"Very well," Rose whispered.

"And should you choose not to uphold your end of the bargain," Erik continued, "I will no longer be obligated to uphold _mine_!"

"I understand…" Rose wanted to scream at him. He was playing lord and master with her future happiness, and all the while he was treating it like some sort of business agreement!

How could Eli have been raised by such a cold-hearted monster?

"Now that we understand each other," Erik continued, "I want you to go. Now."

Rose looked at him with mournful eyes. "May I say good-bye to him, first?"

Erik was about to refuse her, but Fantine spoke up before he could say anything. "Of course you may," she said. "But make it quick."

Rose moved over to the bed and looked into the sleeping face of the only man she had ever loved, probably for the last time. She bent down and gently kissed his lips.

"Good-bye, Eli," she whispered.

Moments later, Rose was gone from the room. Meg and Madame Giry had remained in shocked silence for the entire episode. Disapproval was clear in Madame Giry's expression. She did not condone Erik's actions. Meg didn't know what to think. She sensed that a drama was unfolding before her eyes, more extraordinary than anything the Opera Populaire had ever witnessed before…

"Well," Meg said finally. "I suppose it would be best if we left you two with your son."

"Thank you, Madame," Erik replied. When the women had left, he turned to Fantine. "Why did you do that?" he asked. "Why did you let her say good-bye?"

"It was the least we could do," she replied.

Erik was quiet for a moment. "Do you think I did the right thing?" he asked finally.

"If not," she whispered, "then let the fault belong to both of us."

Erik slipped his arms around her waist and tugged her close, resting his chin on top of her head. The Phantoms stood guard over their child, both secretly worried about how Eli would take the news that his beloved had left him.

XxXxX

Rose had cleared out her few belongings from the dormitories and stood on the street corner waiting for the coach. It was very dark now, which was fine by her, for it meant that no one could see her tears. She planned to find work somewhere beyond the city. After she had settled, she would write to her parents to let them know where she was.

She thought about writing a letter to Eli, but she feared that his father would consider that less than honourable to their agreement.

His father… how she hated the man. Oh, she had never really liked him. Not since the day she first met him, seven years ago. He had called her a hussy. She hadn't known what that meant back then, but she could never forget the loathing and spite in his voice as he uttered that word. The memory of it never left her. It got so she hated anyone who said the word – hussy. She even became violent when the word was directed at _her_.

Yes, she had always hated the Phantom… But how much more she hated him now…

"_His parents have forced him into darkness_," she thought. "_They_'_re trying to make him think that he is unworthy of love_."

If only she had gotten the chance to tell him just how much she really cared…

XxXxX

Eli slowly emerged from the darkness that hung over him like a heavy fog. He had never felt so weak.

He tried to recall what had happened… He had been waiting for Rose, but… the Vicomte came. He had been angry. And then Erik was there, and everything became so cold.

Eli attempted to shift his position. A fierce pain shot through his stomach and he cried out.

"Eli?" he heard his mother's voice. "Erik! He's waking up!"

Eli slowly opened his eyes. He lay in a dimly lit room, but he couldn't recognize his surroundings. Suddenly, the masked faces of his parents appeared above him.

"Oh, thank God!" his mother cried.

"Mother? Sir? What happened?" He attempted to sit up, but another wave of pain hit his stomach, forcing him back down.

"Don't try to sit up," Fantine said soothingly.

"I'll go prepare some of that morphine," Erik said, moving away.

"I don't understand," Eli said. "What happened?"

"Your father found you on the roof," Fantine explained. "You were hurt badly. He brought you to Mesdames Romard and Giry. You've been asleep all day."

"What do you remember before I found you?" Erik asked from another side of the room.

"I… I was on the roof," Eli recalled. "I saw… the Vicomte de Chagny."

"I knew it!" Erik growled. "The coward!"

"Rose…" Eli whispered. "Where's Rose?"

Fantine looked uneasy. "Eli…"

"I need to see Rose!" he cried. "Where is she?"

Erik appeared before him once again. His eyes were cold as stone. "She's dead…"

Eli's eyes grew wide and his heart nearly stopped beating. "_What_?" he gasped.

"A tragic carriage accident," Erik said. "She was an unfortunate victim. I'm sorry."

Eli heard nothing else as darkness claimed him once more and he passed out.

XxXxX

**Angel: Oooh! Erik is a big, bad liar!**

**Erik: I am not...**

**Angel: You are a liar!**

**Erik: No I'm not! I tell the truth!**

**Angel: What a lie...**

**Erik: You are insufferable...**

**Angel: And you are annoying... Review, and Erik will kiss you for ten minutes straight without taking a breath!**

**Erik: That is really cold.**

**Angel: You like it.**


	17. Broken Lives

**OK, there's gonna be a little bit of sci-fi-ishness in these next few chapters, especially in Eli's character. Just be ready for it and don't be scared!**

**Some of you have been wondering what Eli looks like... Well, black hair and blue eyes like his dad... But if you'd like an actual person to visualize in the role, I always picture him being played by Tom Welling... Hey, if they can cast Gerard Butler as a deformed lunatic, I can cast Tom Welling as his hot son!**

**Oh, I just read a very cool fic by Le Lutin called _LOCKED IN A LIBRARY_. If anybody read my _Getting Out of the Closet_, well... this story kind of follows the same idea... only in a library. And I believe the authoress is doing cameos, so if you'd like to read about yourself, drop her a review!**

**Anyhoo... Enjoy this chapter!**

**_17. Broken Lives_**

_Three months later_…

"I'm sorry, Erik!" Meg said to the irritated man before her. "But the doctor said that Eli is, physically, in the best of health!"

Erik glared at the small woman. "If that is true, Madame," he spoke through gritted teeth, "then why does he simply sit and stare into nothingness all day and night? Why won't he speak? It's as if he's in a coma!"

Meg sighed. "The doctor said that his illness, whatever it is, must be of the mind and not the body. He's examined your son top to bottom! He's performed test after test! There's no explanation for Eli's behaviour. There just isn't!"

Erik sighed heavily and looked out at the boat, where Madame Giry waited with Eli. The boy had grown so skinny over the course of the past three months. He stared dead ahead, completely oblivious to what was going on around him.

"Is there nothing else we can do?" Erik asked, hopelessness creeping into his voice.

"You've done everything you _can_ do," Meg said.

Erik exhaled and walked over to the boat. "Elijah?" he said gently. "Come on out of there."

Eli stood up mechanically, responding to Erik's command like a robot. He stepped out of the boat and into the lair.

"Thank you, Mesdames," Erik said. "You have been helpful."

Meg stepped into the boat with her mother and the two women left the lair. Erik sighed and looked at his son.

"Come with me," he told the boy.

Eli responded automatically, following his father to the study. Fantine sat on the couch inside, where she always waited after Meg brought Eli home from the doctor's. Erik always preferred that she remain absent when Eli returned from these examinations. He explained to her that if there was any bad news, he would rather be the one to tell her.

However, lately, the phrase 'No news is good news' was not ringing true for the Phantoms.

Fantine stood up as Erik brought Eli into the study. Her abdomen was beginning to swell just a bit from her pregnancy, but the signs were not yet obvious. She went to her son.

"What did the doctor say this time?" she asked.

"What he always says," Erik muttered. "Nothing! Absolutely nothing! These doctor bills are milking us dry, and still that man cannot find the cause of Eli's condition! He says there's no _physical_ explanation for this illness."

"So do you think the sickness is spiritual?" she asked.

Erik scoffed. "Now that's an obscure notion if I ever heard one!"

"Do not belittle me, Erik!" she snapped. "You know what I speak of! Is Eli…?" She paused, taking a breath and then continuing. "Is Eli distraught over… _her_?"

Erik cast his gaze to the floor. "It was a childish infatuation… He would have grown out of it, sooner or later… Better that it was sooner…"

"What if he cared for her more than we realized?"

"Impossible!" Erik said. "How could he possibly care for _her_? Her parents–"

"Are not the ones he was sneaking around with behind our backs!" Fantine snapped. "Erik! He might have loved her!"

Erik met her gaze. "Well, now he must learn to live without her… In time, he'll be just fine…" Erik turned to Eli. "Come… You need to rest…"

Eli obediently followed his father to his bedroom. Erik helped the boy out of his boots as though he were only a small child.

"Lay down, now," Erik said.

Eli laid back on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Try to rest, now," Erik said softly. He sighed. "You'll be fine… You'll see… We're Phantoms… We don't need anybody up there… We're just fine…"

Eli did not respond. Erik hadn't expected him to.

"Good night, Child of Darkness," Erik whispered. He turned and headed for the door. Then he paused, and turned to face Eli once more.

"I… l-love you, son…"

Eli remained silent. Erik sighed and left the room. He could not bear to look at him any longer. Eli, his son, his heir, his flesh and blood, was perfectly helpless… It was as if he were only an infant… The boy had wasted away. He was a mere shadow of his former self. The handsome, well-built young lad who might have made young ladies swoon was now a pitiful sack of skin and bones…

Erik couldn't help but blame the Vicomte. How he desired to kill the man… But, no. He had made a bargain. And far be it from the Phantom of the Opera to dishonour his part of a bargain.

"_Eli_," Erik thought. "_If only I could make you well again_…"

XxXxX

After Erik had left, tears started to flow down Eli's cheeks.

"_Dead_…_ She_'_s dead_…"

He never got to kiss her enough… touch her enough… tell her how much he loved her enough… She was taken from him, and he would never see her again…

When he found out, he had lost the will to do… _anything_… Food had lost its flavour… He slept, but his dreams were always haunted by nightmares, preventing him from getting necessary rest… He became a living shadow.

His parents had grown concerned. They sent him to the doctor, again and again. But no doctor could ever understand his pain. It was a sickness rooted within his very soul. Darkness had taken him over, and it wouldn't let him go…

"_Child of Darkness_…_ I am a Child of Darkness_…"

He didn't even try to understand anymore…

"_Son of the Phantom of the Opera_…"

Perhaps this was his only destiny…

"_We don_'_t need anybody up there_…"

And now there was no reason for him to care anymore…

"_Oh_,_ Rose_…"

The tears ceased to flow as the Darkness took him over and blackened the last bit of emotion in his heart…

He was a Child of Darkness…

Compassion… Empathy… Kindness… Those no longer existed… All that remained was the Darkness…

But one face remained… One face he could _never_ forget…

_Her_ face…

"_I am a Phantom_…"

XxXxX

Rose was exhausted. She had lost yet another job. Waitressing this time. A patron had made more-than-friendly overtures towards her. She became angry and pushed him away. Unfortunately, her employer had caught only the last part of their argument. Since the patron was also a very wealthy, influential man, Rose was fired on the spot. She wasn't even given a chance to explain herself! Of course, without the income, she could no longer afford the rent for her modest apartment. Now she had nowhere left to go…

Rose sighed as she sat down on a street bench. It was getting late. The streets were almost empty. She would probably have to sleep out here tonight.

Rose had only a small canvas bag with some clothes in it. That could serve her as a pillow. She just wished that she had a blanket to ward off the night chill.

She started thinking about Eli… She missed him… Oh, she missed him so much! She wondered what his father had told him… That she had left him? That she didn't love him anymore? That she had run off with David?

He must have told Eli some story to make him despise her. She wished that she could tell him the truth… But the Phantom would never let her get away with that.

"Oh, Eli," she whispered. "I miss you so much."

"Who's Eli?"

Rose looked up. A man stood before her. His clothing was a little rumpled and worn, but he had a kind face.

"Um…" Rose whispered. "He was a boy I knew…"

"A beau?" the man asked.

Rose smiled faintly. "Yes… Yes, he was my beau…"

"Why are you sitting out here all alone?" he asked.

Rose sighed. "I have nowhere else to go… I lost my job… I lost my apartment… I can't go home… I feel so lost…"

"No job?" the man nodded in understanding. "I know how that feels." He paused, then his eyes brightened. "I might be able to help you!"

Rose looked up at him. "H-help me? How?"

"Well," he began, "I've been needing some help at my home… Housekeeping and such… I just started working for a new law firm about two weeks ago, and I just haven't had the time to keep the place in order. If you agree to do work around my home, I'll provide rent and meals for you, as well as a weekly allowance. How does that sound?"

Rose was overjoyed. She couldn't believe her luck! "Monsieur, I accept!"

The man smiled. "Wonderful! Come, my carriage is just across the street."

Rose followed the man to his carriage. He helped her inside.

"By the way," he said as he settled himself into his seat. "What is your name?"

"Rose de Chagny," she answered.

"Rose? Lovely name! I am Albert Burford."

Albert urged his horses on and they began their trek to Rose's new life.

XxXxX

"How long will you continue to punish me?" Christine demanded of Raoul in their home. "I told you I was sorry! I realize I was foolish! Why can't we just put this all behind us?"

Raoul glared at her. "Why should I believe you? You lied to me for eighteen years! Why should I trust you at all?"

"I chose _you_, Raoul!" Christine cried. "I love you and no other!"

Raoul laughed harshly. "If you truly loved me, you would not have returned to that monster!"

Christine sputtered with frustration. "I _told_ you, Raoul! I was being _foolish_! I realize my mistake!"

"Do you?" Raoul snarled. "Why don't you just run away with your Angel of Music? I'm sure you two would make each other very happy!"

Christine wanted to cry at his words. "How can you say that?" Christine asked. "I would never dream of leaving you and Rose… You two are my life!"

"A pity you never show it!" Raoul snapped as he stormed out of the room.

Christine collapsed onto her bed and cried. She and Raoul had been having the same argument nearly every night for three months. He had taken to sleeping in the guest room and now woke at an extremely early hour so he could eat breakfast without her. The lengths he went to just to avoid her hurt Christine so much. She loved him and only wanted to put this whole mess behind them.

Christine sighed. Perhaps she ought to leave for a little while. Maybe if she gave Raoul some space he would get over it and forgive her.

So Christine got to her feet and started packing some of her clothes and other essentials into a small canvas bag. She took a piece of paper and a pen a wrote a quick note to Raoul, explaining her actions.

"_Meg and I have not spoken in so long_," Christine thought. "_I wonder how my old friend will feel about me coming to live with her_?"

XxXxX

Rose and Albert travelled for quite some time in silence. Rose was a little confused. She thought that they would have reached his home by now.

"Um, excuse me?" she said timidly. "But how much longer will it be before we reach your home?"

"Oh, about another hour," Albert replied. "Paris is a long way off."

"Paris!" Rose exclaimed.

"Why, yes. Didn't I mention that? The law firm I work for is in Paris. I was out of town visiting a client. Some rich folks prefer it if you come to _them_, you know?"

"So… So you live in Paris?"

Albert smiled. "Lovely city… My home is actually only a few blocks down from the world-renowned Opera Populaire! Maybe, someday, when I'm in a better financial position, you and I could go see an opera! I used to watch a lot of operas there… No better show in the rest of the world!"

Rose felt her stomach twist into a knot… She was excited… and scared… She had the chance to see Eli again! But what would happen if the Opera Ghost found out?

Nearly an hour later, Rose saw it… the Opera Populaire… Eli was there, somewhere within…

Albert gazed at the building wistfully. "Beautiful, isn't it? You know, I have a friend who lives there. She has a son… About your age, I believe…"

Rose didn't answer, but continued to stare at the giant building…

"Welcome to Paris, Rose de Chagny," Albert smiled. "I hope you like it here."

Rose could say nothing, but only stare at the massive building before her.

"_Oh_,_ Eli_…"

XxXxX

Erik and Fantine woke up late the following morning. Erik went off to his study, as usual, and Fantine decided to go to the kitchen to make some tea for Eli.

As she boiled the water, she thought of her son's condition. That girl, Rose, could heal her son. She knew it. But Erik insisted that she not mention the girl. And she knew her husband would not appreciate her trying to bring the de Chagny back to the theatre, even if it would restore Eli to his former self.

Fantine sighed as she took the cup of tea to Eli's room, and opened the door.

"Eli?" she called softly. "I've brought something for you."

Then Fantine saw him. Her eyes widened, jaw dropping. The cup of tea slipped from her hand, spilling its contents across the floor as it shattered on the stone.

"Erik!" she screamed. "Come quick!"

Erik was at her side in a matter of seconds. And then his heart nearly stopped dead.

"Oh, my God!" he gasped.

XxXxX

**DUN DUN DUN!**

**Oh, I am so evil with the cliffies!**

**Just so you know, Albert is going to become an important character later on... Yes, there was a reason for getting him out of the bar!**

**OK! Please review and let me know what you think!**


	18. Changed

**A little bit of weirdness in this chapter... But I'm a weird kind of writer, so that's OK!**

**Hope you like it!**

**_18. Changed_**

"Eli…" Erik whispered.

Eli stood before his parents – fully dressed, mask in place, and looking quite alert. It seemed to be the first time he had done anything of his own accord in months.

"Eli," Erik said tentatively. "Are you alright?"

"I am fine."

He spoke! He had not said a word since he became ill, and now he spoke! Erik was overjoyed and concerned at the same time. Although Eli was acting – well, _normal_ – once again, there was something odd about his voice. It contained no emotion… no feeling… Erik began to wonder if the boy really _was_ alright.

Erik turned to Fantine. "We… we should have the doctor take another look at him…"

"I do not need to see a doctor," Eli said in that emotionless, uncaring voice. "I am fine."

In spite of his concerns, Erik moved forward and embraced his son.

"Eli, we were so worried," he whispered.

"There is no need to worry for me. I am a Phantom."

Erik drew back from the boy. He felt so cold! Erik looked into his eyes and found them hard and cruel. Beneath the mask, his expression was like stone.

"Th-that's right, son," Erik said, drawing back from the boy a little bit. "We're Phantoms… But… you don't need to be wearing that mask now… We're in the house… Come now, take it off…"

Erik reached out to try to take the mask from his son's face. Eli suddenly jumped forward, knocking Erik's hand away and wrapping his fingers around the older man's throat.

"Do not touch my mask!" Eli yelled at him as his grip tightened, cutting off Erik's airflow.

"Elijah!" Erik gasped. "L-let… go of… me!" Erik grabbed at Eli's hand and tried to pry the boy's fingers from his throat.

"Eli!" Fantine cried. "Stop this at once!" She tried to wrench him away from Erik. Eli responded by backhanding her across the face. Fantine cried out in pain and fell. She hit her head off of the corner of an end table and landed on the floor unconscious.

Gritting his teeth, Erik released the boy's hands and shoved him hard against the shoulders. The boy grunted as he lost his grip on Erik and was thrown back a few feet. Erik gasped for breath, leaning against the wall.

"Elijah!" Erik said as he rubbed the bruised skin of his throat. "What has gotten into you?"

"Nothing," the boy responded, calm and collected once more. "I am fine."

Erik was getting irritated. Eli was not acting _fine_! For the past three months he certainly hadn't been _fine_!

Erik went to Fantine's side. "Fantine?" he called to her. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her a bit. "Fantine!" Her head rolled to the side and Erik saw a bloody wound on the side of her head from where she struck the table.

"What have you done?" Erik cried as he took Fantine into his arms.

"She will be fine," Eli said simply.

Fine. There was that word again. Nothing about this situation was _fine_!

"I'm taking her to Madame Giry!" Erik growled. "And so help me you had better be here when I get back!"

XxXxX

Rose woke late the next morning. Albert had been kind enough to make up a bed for her on the couch in his living room. His home was small and modest, but quite cozy. As she opened her eyes, the smell of freshly cooked bacon reached her nose. She sat up and removed her robe from her bag of belongings and put it on over her nightgown. She sleepily made her way to the kitchen.

As she entered the kitchen, Albert put a few strips of bacon on a plate with some eggs and toast. He smiled when he saw her.

"Ah, good. You're awake. Perfect timing, too. Your breakfast is ready."

Rose sat at the place that Albert had set for her at the table. He put the plate down in front of her and poured her a tall glass of orange juice.

"If I'm going to be the housekeeper around here," Rose said, "shouldn't _I_ be making breakfast?"

Albert shrugged. "I've never really minded cooking. Besides, I thought you might want something special for your first day on the job." He took his own plate and sat across from her. He poured himself some juice and raised his glass to her. "To new beginnings."

Rose smiled and took a sip from her glass. She looked around herself at the small, modest kitchen. "It's funny," she muttered.

Albert looked up from his plate. "What's funny?"

Rose flushed, looking embarrassed. "Oh, it's just… nothing…"

"No, really… tell me…"

Rose looked around again. "I thought all lawyers lived in great big expensive mansions with dozens of servants and a stable full of horses… I just didn't imagine it would be just the two of us living here all alone…"

Albert smirked. "You're disappointed?"

"Oh, no!" Rose said quickly. "Not at all! You have a lovely home! I guess… I'm just curious… I know lawyers make a lot of money, so why don't you live in a bigger home?"

"Well, I _did_ mention that I only just started working for this law firm," Albert pointed out. "When I'm in a better position, I plan to relocate." Albert looked uneasy. "You're going to be working for me now, so I guess you should know this… I'm a recovering alcoholic…"

Rose gasped. "You… You are?"

"I'm not proud of it," Albert said. "But for twenty years I was dependent on drink. My life-savings from before I started the habit barely kept me alive. That's why I live in this little broken-down shack."

"What on earth could have happened to make you turn to drink?" Rose asked.

Albert rested his head in his hands. "You'd laugh at me."

"I would never do such a thing!" Rose said. "Please… tell me…"

Albert sighed. "Well, I was engaged to a ballerina at the Opera Populaire. But two months before we were to be wed, she left me."

"Then she was foolish," Rose said. "You're a wonderful man. She'd have to be crazy to–"

Albert held up a hand, cutting her off. "She had her reasons. But I didn't fully understand at the time. I loved her very much, and I was quite depressed when she just vanished without a trace. Drinking became my only way of coping with the loss. But nearly three months ago, I was sitting in the bar, as usual, and a woman entered. I didn't recognize her at first. It had been twenty years. But then I heard her voice. That unmistakable sarcasm. She was so good at it. I revealed myself to her. She barely recognized me. I wanted to run away with her, then and there. I was already making plans to get a church so that we could be married and finally live the life that I had always dreamed we would share together."

"What did she say?" Rose asked.

"She told me she was already married! Married, had a son, everything. She was very happy with her new life. And she told me to stop mourning her and learn how to live again. She stayed with me nearly all night. We talked about this and that. Before she left, she begged me not to go on the way I had been. She asked me to find happiness again. I felt that I owed it to her, so I did just that." Albert spread his arms. "And here I am now. I cleaned up enough to get another job and I gave up drinking. I must say, I'm glad I followed her advice." He sighed. "But enough about me… You were wandering around in a town miles away from here, all by yourself, with nothing but the clothes on your back… What were you doing there? Don't you have parents? You seem too young to be trying to fend for yourself just yet. You're what? Seventeen?"

"Sixteen, actually," Rose said.

Albert leaned forward in his chair. "What were you doing out there?"

Rose sighed. "You'd laugh."

"I most certainly would not!" Albert said. "Tell me."

Rose sighed again. What was she supposed to tell him? That she fell in love with the son of the ghost of the Opera Populaire and that the Phantom didn't like her and therefore made her leave? The man would think she was crazy! She'd lose her job before she even saw her first pay!

"Well… uh…" Rose stumbled out, her mind racing. "You see, I… I had to leave home…"

Albert raised an eyebrow. "Why would you have to do something like that?"

"Well it was… for my parents… You see, they… they, uh… they wouldn't have been able to live if I stayed with them."

"Ah," Albert said. "They couldn't afford to keep you with them?"

"Yes," Rose said quietly. "They couldn't afford the cost to keep me with them…" She shook her head. "So I left. I've been trying to support myself so that they don't have to, but it hasn't been easy…"

Albert nodded. "Well, you may wish to write to them to tell them you've found a new job. I'm sure they'll be happy to hear that."

"Yes," Rose whispered. "I'm sure that will make them very happy…"

The two finished their breakfast in silence. Finally, Albert stood up.

"I'm going to be away all day today," he told her. "There's a list over there on the counter of some things I need done today… I've also left some money and a shopping list for groceries, if you wouldn't mind going into town to pick up a few things for me."

Rose nodded as she stood up. "I'll prepare a dinner for us when you get home. Where are you going?"

"Oh, I'll just be down the street at the Opera Populaire."

Rose suppressed a gasp. "Wh… What are you doing down there?"

"The managers over there need a lawyer… Not for anything serious, mind you. They have some dealings with other businesses in the city, and they would like someone such as myself to be there and… oh, _advise_ them I guess is how you could put it… They claim that they seem to be losing money, and they fear that it might be the result of some bad business decisions. If they hire me, I'll be their representative if they ever go to court…"

"Court?" Rose repeated.

"Yes… Fraud and other such petty crimes are spreading like wildfire in the world of business. All of the big names are getting representation nowadays. It never hurts to be careful." Albert picked up his hat and his coat. "I'll be home this evening. Have a pleasant day."

Rose did not move for a long time after Albert left. Her mind was reeling. How could this all be coincidence?

XxXxX

Meg glanced at Erik. "I don't know what to tell you," she said. "It's the closest thing to a miracle I've ever seen!"

"Miracle?" Erik sneered. "Miracle, my ass!"

Meg cringed at the profanity. "Eli's conduct… It was not normal. I can't even begin to imagine what has initiated this type of behaviour."

Erik scowled. "Then why don't you take him to the doctor and let _him_ examine my son like I _asked_ you to?"

Meg frowned. "I tried Erik, but he refused to come with me!" She glanced at Eli, who was brooding in the corner of the room. Erik had brought her back to his lair to examine his son. The boy hadn't left, for which Erik was grateful. Fantine was with Madame Giry in one of the vacant dorm rooms, where her head-wound was being tended.

Meg looked at the boy and sighed. "Despite these… _changes_… at least your son is back to his old self… For the most part, anyway. We can be thankful for that. I am sure it will not be long before everything else is back to normal."

"I certainly _hope_ so, Madame," Erik mumbled, rubbing his neck. "I should not have to fear for my life in the presence of my own _son_."

"You should let me have a look at that."

"It is simply bruised, Madame," Erik said. "It will heal in its own time."

"Then I had best go," Meg said. She curtsied and left.

Then Eli spoke. "I am going to the surface now. I shall return later."

The boy made a motion to walk away, but Erik stepped in front of him.

"Oh, no you're not!" he said. "You're not going anywhere."

Eli glared at his father, but his expression remained deathly calm. "You cannot tell me what I shall do," the boy told him. "I am a Phantom…" Then he reached up and removed Erik's Punjab lasso from a hook on the wall.

Erik stared at his son. "Elijah, what… what are you doing with that?"

"A Phantom should always be ready to defend himself," Eli replied as he headed for the lake.

"Boy, get back here!" Erik demanded. "I will not have my son turning into some kind of deranged murderer!"

Eli glanced calmly back at his father. "Why not, Father? That is what _you_ are, after all…"

Erik was so stunned that all words momentarily left him. The boy might as well have just punched him in the face!

"Son," Erik finally said. "That was a very long time ago…"

"But you enjoyed it nonetheless, did you not?" Eli asked. "You liked being feared. You liked having the power to take life. You liked watching it slip from their eyes." The boy paused. "Didn't you?"

Erik looked at the boy disbelievingly. "You… How… How could you know all that?"

"It's obvious, Father," Eli spoke condescendingly. "You must have enjoyed it. You would not have continued to kill if you didn't."

Erik could only stand in shocked silence. Eli's words had hit too close to home. He barely even noticed when Eli left the lair.

When Erik raised his eyes again, Madame Giry was entering the lair on the boat. She looked grave.

"Fantine!" Erik remembered. He ran to the shore and helped her dock the boat.

"Is she alright?" Erik asked before Madame Giry was even out of the boat. "Is it serious? Will she be alright?"

"She is fine," Madame Giry said wearily. "The wound was relatively minor… She has a small concussion. But she will recover fully."

Erik sighed in relief. "Thank God."

Madame Giry swallowed hard. "But there's more, Erik… Fantine… she…"

"What?" Erik demanded. "You said she would be fine! What more is there?"

"It's the baby…" she whispered.

All of the air left Erik at once. He knew what was coming. "No," he whispered, shaking his head. "No! Don't say it! Don't you _dare_ say it!"

A tear fell down her cheek. "She lost the child, Erik… I'm so sorry… The shock to her body caused a spontaneous miscarriage…"

Erik felt tears forming in his eyes. "Our baby is dead?" He buried his fingers in his hair. He had loved that child… the child who hadn't even had the chance to live yet. He had looked forward to raising a baby again. He had secretly hoped for a little girl, with her mother's eyes and hair. He had loved something he had not yet seen or touched. He had loved it simply because it was a part of himself and Fantine…

And his son had killed it…

"Elijah…" Erik growled deep in his throat. His tone dripped with hatred.

"Erik, you can't blame him!" Madame Giry said quickly.

"Can't I?" Erik shouted. "He struck her! If he hadn't, our child would have been just fine!"

"Fantine is thirty-nine years old!" Madame Giry said. "It's risky for _any_ woman that age to attempt a pregnancy. It could have happened whether or not Eli struck her!"

"I don't care about what _could_ have happened!" Erik snarled. "All I know is this… Fantine lost her baby because of _him_!"

"And you're going to stop loving him now?" Madame Giry asked.

Erik was taken aback by her question. "Of course not!"

"Then I suggest you find him quickly," she said. "I know you're grieving for the loss of your child, but don't lose the other one too."

She left the lair. Erik hardly noticed. He was numb inside. He dragged himself to his bedroom, curled up on his bed and let himself cry.

One of his children were dead… and the other had succumbed to a Darkness so powerful that Erik didn't know if he could save him from it…

XxXxX

**Oh, dear... I am depressing...**

**In case some of you haven't caught on yet, Eli's slowly going insane... You know, from grief and all that. Then again, maybe he's beyond _going_ insane and now simply _is_ insane.**

**He's cuh-razy... But we all love him anyways... Especially if he's being played by Tom Welling...**

**Chocolate awaits reviewers...**


	19. Darkness and Insanity

**Angel: The title of this chapter says it all...**

**Erik: I'm dark and insane?**

**Angel: Well, yes... but that's not it...**

**Erik:_ You_'_re_ dark and insane?**

**Angel: No!**

**Erik: Stephen Harper is dark and insane?**

**Angel: _JUST READ THE CHAPTER_!**

**_19. Darkness and Insanity_**

Meg returned to her room later that afternoon, both confused and disturbed by what she had seen. She just couldn't understand it. First, Eli was a perfectly normal boy… Then he became a lifeless shadow… Now he was a violent, temperamental, heartless monster! She was almost afraid of what he would become next…

Meg was so preoccupied by her thoughts that she didn't even notice that she wasn't alone in the room.

"Hello, Meg…"

Meg's head snapped around and she saw none other than Christine de Chagny standing in the middle of the room.

"Chr-Christine," Meg stumbled. "What… uh… er…"

Christine smiled faintly. "Are you trying to ask me what I am doing here?"

Meg said nothing, but nodded dumbly.

Christine sighed. "Raoul and I have been fighting…"

"Y-yes," Meg said. "Rose told me about it. It's been going on for a few months now, hasn't it?"

Christine nodded sadly. "It's gotten worse, lately…" She looked up at Meg. "I hate to ask you this, especially since we haven't been talking as much as we used to, but… would you mind terribly if… if I stayed with you for a while?"

Meg blinked. "Are… are you… leaving Raoul?"

Christine shook her head. "No… I can't… I love him too much… I just want to give him some space… He just needs time to think… Then we can forgive each other and put this all behind us…"

"What are you and Raoul fighting about anyway?" Meg asked. "What could be so bad that you two would bicker over it for so many months?"

Christine sighed. "It's a long story… and rather difficult to explain…"

Meg pulled up a chair. "Well," she said. "I have all afternoon…"

XxXxX

Eli prowled around the shadows of the backstage area of the theatre. There were no rehearsals today, but a few ballerinas and chorus members could be seen milling about. But no one saw Eli, though…

Eli was only seen when he wished to be…

This was his theatre… His kingdom… He ruled… Anyone who questioned him must die. The boy began to wonder if his father were truly capable of handling the Opera Populaire anymore. He seemed to have grown weak in his old age. Perhaps that was his mother's doing. He sneered at the thought. A mere woman housebroke the Phantom of the Opera… How disgusting. What was the world coming to, anyway?

"_It_'_s impossible to be a good husband and father as well as a Phantom_," Eli decided. Erik was feared, no doubt of it… But he was turning into a plaything for ballerinas and stagehands to gossip and giggle about.

"_When my time comes_," the boy thought, "_everyone will be too frightened to even speak of me_…_ I will not turn into the joke that my father has become_!"

His father was incapable of the job now… Eli knew that if Erik did not hand over control of the theatre to him soon, he would probably have to take it by force. He would push the old Phantom out, if necessary… For now he would wait… But Eli was sure now that his destiny was at hand…

XxXxX

Raoul read the paper in his hands for the dozenth time…

_My dearest Raoul_,

_I have to leave now_._ Just for a little while_._ I should have expected that you would need time to think about what has happened between us_._ My presence here is just confusing you_._ When we_'_ve both had a little time to ourselves_,_ I hope you_'_ll allow me to return so we can put the past behind us_. _Know that you_'_re the only man I will ever love_._ Nothing could take your place in my heart_._ I realize that now_.

_If you are wondering where I have gone_,_ I plan to stay with Meg Romard at the Opera Populaire_._ If you wish to speak with me_,_ that is where I will be_.

_Love_,

_Christine_

Raoul placed the paper down on the desk again. He felt tears creep out of the corners of his eyes. He had driven her out of their home… What kind of husband was he?

Raoul immediately blamed the Phantom. It seemed lately that all he ever did was blame the Phantom. Whenever something went wrong – from a poor night of sleep to a stubbed toe – he began cursing the Phantom. Deep down he knew that he was only blaming him to keep from blaming himself, but he couldn't help it.

"_This is not my fault_!" Raoul thought. "_That troublesome Phantom_!_ He mocks me_!_ He_'_s doing this to cause me pain_! _The monster_!"

What was so great about the Phantom that Christine would leave Raoul for him? Sure, he was by all rights a genius… Sure, he had a captivating voice… But let us not forget that he was also a murderer, an obsessive stalker, and basically a madman!

The Phantom did nothing but cause Raoul trouble… and now his wife had left because of him! If only he could just make the entire Phantom Clan go away… Forever…

XxXxX

Albert returned home later that evening to the smell of dinner cooking over the stove. Rose stood before a large pot of stew, stirring it occasionally.

"Something sure smells good!" he said as he took off his hat and coat.

Rose smiled. "I'm not much of a cook, but I hope this turns out alright." She paused. "How were things at the theatre?"

"Very well… Things look promising…"

"So… you think, maybe… you'll be going over there more often?"

"I certainly hope so," he said as he took a seat at the kitchen table.

Rose was quiet for a minute. "Albert, it's illegal to threaten someone, isn't it?" she asked.

Albert seemed a bit surprised by her question. "Well, yes it is… Blackmail and verbal threats are not legal in this country… I've dealt with a few cases like that before…"

"What happens to people who threaten? Do you throw them in jail?"

"Well, not really… Those people are usually charged…"

"So, like, you could sue someone for threatening you?"

"Yes… yes, you could…" Albert was a bit disturbed by where this conversation was going. "Rose? Has someone threatened you?"

Rose didn't dare meet his eyes. "I'm sorry… I shouldn't talk about it…"

Albert stood up. "You can tell me, Rose… If someone has threatened you, you should tell me…"

"What good would it do?" she sighed. "It won't change anything…"

Albert pursed his lips and looked at the floor. "Might this have something to do with your father being the patron of the arts at the Opera Populaire?"

Rose suppressed a gasp. She was so shocked that she could not say a word for a moment. He _knew_!

"H-how… how did you know that?" she whispered.

"Andre and Firmin told me all about him," Albert said. "They thought I should know a little about their business partner if I was going to be their lawyer. His name is Raoul de Chagny, no? I said, 'De Chagny? Any relation to a Miss Rose de Chagny?' And they said, 'Why, yes. She is his only daughter.'" He looked up at her with a burning glare. "They proceeded to tell me all about you," he told her. "How you had been a dancer for the Corps de Ballet, how you had charmed everyone in that production of _Hannibal_ playing Elissa… And how you suddenly and mysteriously left the theatre three months ago."

Rose felt weak in the knees and had to sit down at the table lest she collapse to the floor in shock. How stupid she had been! When Albert said he was going to be at the Opera Populaire, all she could think about was Eli and his thrice-damned father, the Opera Ghost! Albert was _bound_ to hear about her father! She was such an idiot!

Albert sat across from her at the table. He looked at her critically. "I have been honest with you about my past," he said. "But it seems that you have been a little less-than-honest with me about _yours_. Your family is not poor! Your father is the Vicomte de Chagny, for Heaven's sake! Your parents are perfectly capable of supporting you. Now, if you wish to remain in my employ, I suggest you tell me the truth right now. Why did I find you wandering around miles from the city without a home and without a friend where the street vipers run about? And more importantly, why did you feel the need to lie?"

Rose couldn't look at him, so she closed her eyes. "You would think me a crazy little bat!"

Albert shrugged. "Better a crazy bat than a liar, I think," he said. He leaned forward. "All I want is the truth… I cannot think poorly of you if you tell me what really happened…" His expression softened somewhat. "Please, Rose…"

She didn't want to. She didn't want to relive the past. What good would it do? Telling Albert everything would not bring Eli back to her. At the end of the day, she would still be bound by the Phantom's promise… Stay away from the theatre, and her family was safe. Return to it, and he would kill all of them.

And yet, Rose knew that she owed Albert the truth. He had taken her in – not knowing a thing about who she was – gave her a home, a place to sleep, a job, everything… He even trusted her! He had believed everything that she had told him. He had told her everything about his past and his secret shame when he didn't have to! And now… now all he asked for was her honesty. All he wanted was the truth. And she knew she could not deny him.

Rose fought back tears as she began her tale. "When I was working at the Opera Populaire, I met a boy… His name was Eli…"

"The boy you told me about when we first met," Albert said. "Your beau."

"Yes… We were very close… We loved each other… But our parents did not approve of us seeing each other, so we met in secret… Then our parents found out. Our parents know each other somehow. I don't know how. But they hate each other so much! A little while later, Eli got hurt. His father thought that I had something to do with it. So he told me that if I didn't leave the Opera Populaire, he would kill me and my parents!"

At the end of her narrative, the dam broke. Rose sobbed hard, burying her face into her hands.

After she had calmed down a bit, Albert spoke gently. "Why didn't you just call the authorities? You could have told your parents… the managers… someone! You didn't have to run away…"

Rose shook her head. "I couldn't tell anyone… There is no one who would have been able to help me… Eli is no ordinary boy and his father is no ordinary man!" Rose looked at the floor to avoid seeing Albert's reaction. "I fell in love with the Son of the Phantom of the Opera Populaire!"

Albert did not say anything, and Rose did not dare raise her eyes to see his face. She heard him stand up from the table and walk over to a corner at the opposite side of the room. When she finally raised her eyes, he had his back to her, leaning against the wall with one arm.

"_He thinks I_'_m crazy_," Rose realized. "_He thinks I belong in an institution_!"

But she did not expect to hear the next words he spoke.

"Oh, Fanny," he muttered. "What have you done?"

Rose trembled. "Wh-who's Fanny?"

Albert turned to face her. "Twenty years ago, Fantine Chalifoux was my fiancée… Nowadays, she is known as _Lady_ _Phantom_…"

Rose gasped. "Y-you… you… you were… you were _engaged_ to the Phantom's _wife_?" she cried.

"I didn't even know what she had become until I met her in that bar all those months ago," he said. "As I told you before, she spent most of the night with me, talking… She told me everything… I'm sure you've heard of the Great Disaster of the Opera Populaire in 1870?"

Rose nodded. "The Phantom dropped the Opera's chandelier on hundreds of people during a performance…"

"Fanny had been a ballerina back then… She was injured in that accident… You've heard how she wears a mask? How her face is horribly disfigured?"

Rose nodded. "Lady Phantom was supposed to have been a beautiful dancer… The Phantom lusted for her, so he killed her and kept her soul to himself, making her his eternal bride… In his presence, her beautiful face faded away and became twisted and repulsive, like his… That's how the story goes… Eli told me it was just another ridiculous ghost story that the other ballerinas spread around… He said she was never a pretty ballerina…"

"Then Fanny has been neglecting to tell her son a few things," Albert frowned. "She _was_ beautiful, Rose… The most beautiful girl in the Corps de Ballet… Her beauty, combined with her talent, would have made her Prima Ballerina in a few short years… But when that chandelier came down, she was caught in the flames. Her face was burned terribly. She was badly scarred."

"I… I know," Rose whispered. "I saw it…"

Albert shook his head slowly. "Not very easy to look upon, is it? She broke her engagement to me soon after she left the hospital. She was so ashamed of what she had become, she couldn't bear letting me see her. She disappeared afterwards. I thought maybe she had left the city… perhaps the country! But really, all that time she was just below my feet, living in the caves beneath the Opera Populaire. Then she met the Phantom of the Opera, they fell in love, and then they married and had your Eli…"

Rose furrowed her brow. "How could she love the same monster who… who… did _that_ to her?"

Albert sighed. "She learned to forgive him. She didn't tell me very much about the accident… All she said was that he had reasons for his actions that night… She said, 'There's more behind it than what the stories say…'"

Rose swallowed. "Her husband made me leave the Opera Populaire… If I go back, he'll kill me and my parents… The law cannot save me, Albert! No police officer would venture into the caverns beneath the opera house in search of a ghost…"

Albert sighed. "Unfortunately, you are right… If you tried to report that man, you'd be tossed into an asylum in a heartbeat…"

"What can I do?" she whispered.

"For now, you will remain here with me… You can't go back there… Not yet, anyhow… There's nowhere in the opera house where you can hide from the Phantom's eyes…"

XxXxX

Eli stood up in the catwalks. The auditorium was pretty much deserted now. He glanced down at the stage below him. A memory stirred in his mind as he imagined watching a beautiful blonde girl stepping up onto the stage. Her voice still echoed in his head…

"**_Think of me_…_ Think of me fondly when we_'_ve said good_-_bye_…**"

A warm feeling stirred in Eli's heart. He pushed it away quickly.

"_What does it matter anymore_?" he thought. "_It was never meant to be_."

"What the…? Who are you?"

Eli turned to face the voice. David Cormier was standing mere feet away from him, staring. Eli's eyes darkened. David shivered and backed away from the taller boy.

Eli glared at him. "The question, I believe, is who do you think _you_ are?"

David trembled, but stood his ground. "I… I work here! I'm a stagehand! You shouldn't be up here!"

"A stagehand, are you?" Eli said mockingly. "Very good. Then I will have you know that _you_ work for _me_."

David looked incredulous. "You're crazy! I work for this theatre, you freak! For Firmin and Andre!"

Eli closed the distance between them and grabbed the boy by the throat. "Correction… You work for the _Phantom of the Opera_!"

David's eyes widened. "You're insane!"

Eli sneered at him. "I do not appreciate your disrespect… In fact, I am beginning to think that I no longer want you in my employ."

"You can't get rid of me, you crazy loon!"

"Can I not?" Eli hissed, his free hand removing his father's Punjab lasso from his belt. "You hurt my Rose… You said things that were not nice… You tried to take her from me…"

David paused. "What? You… You mean… _You_'_re_ the creep Rose has been seeing?"

"_Saw_!" Eli snapped as he whipped the noose over the boy's head and pulled it tight. "I will never see her again… I am taking revenge on her behalf!"

Eli pulled hard on the rope. David's eyes bugged out, his lips turning a shade of blue as Eli squeezed the breath from his lungs.

In the back of his mind, Eli heard something like a drum beating a steady rhythm… "_Kill_…_ Kill_…_ Kill_…" it seemed to chant, over and over, like a mantra.

Eli smirked as he watched the blonde boy's eyes roll back into his head.

A flash of steel, something whistling through the air… In a split-second, Eli found his noose severed. David fell to the floor, unconscious. A black-gloved hand tore the rope from his neck and felt for a pulse.

"Father…" Eli growled.

Erik stood up. "You almost killed him!" he shouted.

"Well, that was my intention…" Eli said. "Or… perhaps _you_ wanted to do it?"

Erik scowled. "I gave up that life years ago! Now let's go, before he wakes up!"

Eli sneered at his father. "You truly are a pathetic creature… Scurrying away like a scared mouse! A true Phantom is not intimidated by these mere humans!"

"We cannot be seen by them!" Erik argued with the boy. "Ever! Nothing good would come of it."

"Correction," Eli said mockingly. "We are seen when we choose to be! You have forgotten who rules this opera house! You are letting these humans control you! You are nothing more than their pathetic puppet! A toy for them to gossip and laugh about!" Eli scowled at Erik, looking thoroughly disgusted. "You make me sick!"

Erik felt his jaw tighten. Unwillingly, his hands clenched into tight fists. He felt his teeth grinding against each other. When he spoke, his voice barely disguised the mounting anger that was building itself up in his chest.

"Push me an inch further, my boy," he hissed, "and I promise you… you _will_ live to regret it!"

"And just what do you intend to do to me, hmm?" Eli asked. Erik knew the boy was taunting him now. "Harm me? _Kill_ me? Ha! Do you even remember _how_?" Eli crossed his arms. "I know you always enjoyed a good kill, Father… But I daresay you do not have the gall to do so anymore…"

"Well, I guess you could say I've been turned off death," Erik spat. "You made your mother lose her baby, I'll have you know!"

"An accident," Eli said nonchalantly. "It happens to the strongest of women."

"Have you no remorse?" Erik demanded. "That child was a living part of your mother! It would have been your younger sibling! Don't you feel the smallest ounce of shame?"

Eli smirked. "Why, you are grieving! How very touching… but so unbefitting a Phantom!" His eyes turned to stone. "Admit it! You have gone soft… You are no longer capable of handling this opera house… The time has come for you to hand control over to _me_!"

Erik nearly laughed at the boy. "_You_ are certainly in no position to handle this opera house! For one thing, you are far too young! Secondly, I question your mental state!"

Eli did not respond but drew his sword from its sheath. He pointed its tip at Erik's throat.

"Then prove it to me," Eli said. "Draw your sword! Prove to me that you are still worthy of ruling this theatre!"

Erik hesitated. His hand seemed to move of his own accord and he drew his own weapon. Erik knew it was foolishness. He would never harm his own son. Even if the boy had him cornered and was preparing to plunge his blade into his heart, Erik would not raise his sword against him. But oh, how Eli was affecting him! It had been _years_ since he had felt such anger… such hatred! The boy was truly bringing out the worst in him.

Eli smirked, seeing that his father had risen to the challenge, and struck with his sword. Erik raised his blade, blocking the blow. Eli struck again, and Erik blocked. They continued like this for some time. It was clear that Eli was on the offensive while Erik was sticking to the defensive. Never once did Erik strike at his son.

"You will never beat me fighting like that!" Eli told his father. "Why are you holding back?"

"I'm not going to hurt you!" Erik said, though the anger in his chest was reaching the boiling point.

"Coward!" Eli spat. He viciously sliced into Erik's hand. Erik cried out in pain as he dropped his sword. Then Eli gave the older man a swift kick in the knees, sending him to the ground. How degrading…

"As I thought," Eli muttered, sheathing his sword. "You are long past your prime. You are nothing!"

Erik's temper was nearing its end. He had been pushed and pulled closer the edge, and now he was about to snap. He looked at his son but all he saw was his unborn child's murderer.

Eli could see the fury in his father's eyes, and took pleasure in it. "You will hand this theatre over to me."

"I would sooner die!" Erik spat, his voice now an animalistic growl.

Eli nodded. "Such arrangements can be made…" The boy reached for his sword again.

Then Erik snapped.

With a cry that screamed fury and hatred, Erik jumped to his feet. As he rose, he brought his fist up and connected it soundly to Eli's jaw with a satisfying crack. The force of the blow sent the boy sprawling, but he did not even grunt in pain.

As Eli fell back from him, the full realization of what he had just done hit Erik like a load of bricks. He froze, his clenched fist still suspended in midair.

The boy picked himself off of the ground and dusted himself off. As he rose, he faced his father. Erik had hit Eli so hard that the boy's lip had split open. Blood trickled down his chin. An ugly, fist-sized red welt now decorated his jaw, contrasting sharply with his pale skin. The mark was even beginning to swell a bit.

Erik was overcome with terrible feelings of guilt. He had just _hit_ his _son_! What kind of man was he?

But Eli did not look upset. Rather, he smirked and nodded his head with approval.

"Very good, Father… I am impressed…"

"E-Eli…" Erik whispered. "Son… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry… I didn't… I didn't mean to…"

Eli brushed past his father. "You had better return to the lair… We would not want someone to see you, now would we?"

XxXxX

**Angel: What'd you think, Erik?**

**Erik: Who's dark and insane?**

**Angel: (_facepalm_).**


	20. Dark Desire

**Angel: It is evident that nobody likes the new Eli and everyone wants him to change back to the old Eli... Patience, my friends...**

**Erik: I don't know... I kind of like him the way he is now... He sort of reminds me of me!**

**Angel: ...**

**Erik: Oh, don't give me that blank stare!**

**Angel: Whatever... Enjoy the chapter...**

**_20. Dark Desire_**

Two weeks passed in this manner… Eli barely resembled his old self anymore. Erik and Fantine had no idea what to do with him. He was beyond their control. Too often, Erik found himself 'disputing' with his son. These fights usually resulted in Erik sustaining some sort of injury. Their most recent argument left Erik nursing a sore wrist. He sat in his chair by the fireplace in the sitting room while Fantine bandaged his arm. He winced a bit.

"That hurts," he growled.

"Quit your whining," Fantine muttered.

"I do _not_ whine!" Erik retorted.

Fantine had almost fully recovered from her injuries, but still grieved the loss of her baby. She told Erik how much she had wanted to have another child with him. Erik did what he could to comfort her, but sometimes he wondered if anything he did helped at all.

"I'm at my wits' end!" Erik said. "I tried to stop Eli from leaving the lair today, and what does he do? Grabs my wrist and twists it like a doorknob! What am I supposed to do? I can't force him to listen to me. I can't make him do things that he doesn't want to do. He just does as he pleases! He feels no remorse, no regret! He doesn't care who he hurts in the process!"

Fantine finished with the bandage and stood up. "I'm at a loss, Erik," she whispered. "He won't listen to me either. He doesn't listen to anyone anymore."

Erik sighed unhappily and pulled Fantine onto his lap, mindful of his injured wrist. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close.

"He's dangerous, Fantine…" Erik whispered.

"I know," she replied, tears sliding down her cheeks. "I fear what he will do next…"

Erik pulled back from her slightly and looked her in the eye.

"We have to stop him…"

XxXxX

Rose brought a few sandwiches to Albert as he carefully read over some papers on his desk.

"It's lunchtime," she told him. "I thought you might be hungry."

Albert smiled and took the plate from her. "Thank you, my dear…" He glanced at the paper in front of him. "My finances seem to be doing much better… At this rate, I might be able to move into a larger home within the year." He glanced around his humble abode. "No more leaky roofs, no more drafts, no more infestations… This will be a big change for us…"

Rose sat quietly on a chair across the room from him. She wanted to ask him… but she didn't know how she should go about it…

"You're being awfully quiet today, Rose," Albert commented. "Is something the matter?"

Rose was silent a few moments longer. "I… I want to ask your permission… to do something… I… I don't know why I want to do it… I guess I just think that doing it will make me feel better, or something…"

Albert turned to face her. "You have my attention, Rose… What is it that you want?"

Rose inhaled deeply and continued. "May I have your permission to… to… visit the… Opera Populaire? Tonight?"

Albert did not answer right away. "Why?" he asked finally. "Aren't you afraid of the Phantom? Aren't you afraid of getting caught?"

"Yes, but… Eli and I had a special place where we used to meet… just the two of us… I would like to go there…"

"You think you might meet Eli there?"

"No… No, I doubt it… He would have no reason to go up there anymore… I… I just used to like going to that place… It was so peaceful… Don't ask me why I feel I must go there tonight… I suppose I just want to be somewhere close to him… Somewhere where I might feel connected to him… I wouldn't be long, I promise… I guess what I really want is to say good-bye… Good-bye to love… Good-bye to any hope that we would ever be together… Good-bye to memories… Good-bye to _him_… I can't go on like this… I… I need closure, Albert… Please? Let me go tonight?"

Albert sighed. "If closure is what you desire, then I cannot deny you your request… You may go to your secret place, tonight…" He looked hard at her. "I only ask that you be very careful… I don't want to see anything bad happen to you…"

Rose stood up and embraced him. "Thank you… you don't know how much this means to me…"

"When will you leave?"

"Not until after dark… It wouldn't be the same during daylight…"

"Then you must take extra caution… When darkness falls upon the Opera Populaire, that's when its ghosts come out to haunt…"

XxXxX

Meg returned to her room late in the afternoon, exhausted from ballet practice.

"Oh, Christine," she mumbled as she collapsed onto her bed. "What has happened to the ballet corps since we were young? The girls are so undisciplined. I could nearly beat my head against a wall! Christine?"

Meg sat up and looked at her friend for the first time since she entered the room. Christine stood before Meg's wardrobe, which held old costumes from her glory days as prima ballerina… even a few from before that…

"What are you doing?" Meg asked as she came to stand beside her friend.

"Just reminiscing…" Christine replied as she browsed through the rack of clothing. "Oh, I remember this horrible costume!" Christine cried as she pulled out the skimpy skirt and belly-top from the opera _Hannibal_. "The slave costume," Christine said with a smile. "I remember I felt so exposed in this thing… we were half-naked!"

Meg grinned. "Remember this one?" she asked as she pulled out her nymph costume from _Il Muto_. "This one still has sheep fleece on it!"

Christine laughed. Then she paused. She reached down to the floor of the wardrobe and picked up a pair of old toe-shoes. The satin was worn right off their tips, indicating that they had been well-used at one point. Christine held them in her hand, staring at them, then looked back up at Meg.

"These… Aren't these…? These used to be Fanny's…"

Meg nodded. "I never got the chance to return them to her… There was that terrible accident, and…" she trailed off.

Christine stared at the toe-shoes. "She would have been great… Imagine what she'd be today if she hadn't…" Christine could not finish her sentence either. She was quiet for a minute. Then she looked back at Meg with flashing eyes. "How could she feel anything other than spite towards the Phantom? It's all his fault, you know. If it hadn't been for him, she could have had a perfectly normal life. But he was too selfish! He did everything to get to me, and he didn't care who he hurt along the way. Fanny had nothing to do with what went on between us… She was innocent! And then, as if that weren't enough, he forces her down into darkness, saddles her with his child, and prevents her from ever seeing the light of day again! Why doesn't she hate him, Meg? He doesn't deserve her loyalty!"

Meg sighed. "I think you have it wrong, Christine… I don't think the Phantom forced Fanny to do _anything_… You remember how she used to be… If she didn't feel right about something, she wouldn't do it, even when everyone else was! That's what made her special… If Fanny is with the Phantom today, it's because she chose it."

"But why?" Christine asked. "Why did she choose to be with _him_? How could she have feelings for the man who ruined her life?"

Meg shrugged. "I guess she forgave him… We don't decide who we fall in love with, Christine… You ought to know that…"

Christine sighed. "Do you think… perhaps… my Rose loved the Son of the Phantom?"

"Would you like the truth?"

Christine swallowed hard and nodded, staring at the floor.

Meg took a breath. "The truth, my friend… I know for certain that your Rose loved the Phantom's heir…"

XxXxX

Eli stood upon the roof later that night. He was frustrated. He didn't understand why he had been drawn here. It was folly. All this place held for him now was memories of what could have been. But his stone heart refused to admit to the pain the lay just beneath its icy surface.

"_There is no place for love in a Phantom_'_s soul_," he thought. "_We feel nothing_… _We need no one_…_ Dependency is weakness_…_ I am a Phantom_…_ I am not **weak**_!"

And yet, Eli could not help but imagine watching a beautiful blonde girl stand before him. She smiled her beautiful smile. Her lips were so full… So tempting… Her touch was nearly forgotten on his skin… Not entirely… But nearly… Unable to stop himself, he reached out towards the lovely illusion…

"**_Say you_'_ll share with me one love_,_ one lifetime_…**"

Her form faded away before he could reach her. Once again, Eli felt a warm feeling stir in his heart. He clamped down on the emotion and threw it away. There was no use pining for what could not be.

Then Eli froze as he sensed a presence near.

XxXxX

Rose pulled the hood of her cloak up around her face as she made her way to the roof. She prayed that no one would see her. The Opera Ghost could not know that she had returned.

When she arrived on the roof, she lifted her hood from her head. It was snowing outside, and a few soft flakes clung to her golden hair. The air was cool and refreshing. With a sigh and the smallest smile upon her red lips, she walked over to the edge of the roof. She looked out upon the beauty of the Parisian city and for once, everything was as it should be.

"I miss you, my love," she whispered. "I wish you were here with me now… But it's time to say good-bye…"

All the while, Rose was unaware of the figure that stood silent and watching her from the shadows.

"_My_,_ isn_'_t she the loveliest thing_," Eli thought. Her fair cheeks flushed a pale pink from the cold. Her lips were red and full. Her eyes were large and of the deepest brown, fringed with rows of long, black lashes. Her golden hair, sprinkled with tiny white snowflakes, gave her a celestial glow. She looked just like an angel!

"_Ah_,_ that modest dress hides a fine body_," Eli observed appreciatively. "_Such lovely curves_…_ Such lovely skin_… _I do wonder if she realizes how tempting her beguiling little body is_?"

A new emotion rose into Eli's chest above the contempt and loathing that he reserved for mankind. He realized with mild amusement that it was lust. He wanted to touch this lovely creature before him. He wanted to feel her flesh upon his. He wanted to claim her succulent lips with his own. He _desired_ her.

The angelic girl must have sensed his presence, for she turned to face him. Her appealing lips parted in surprise, her large eyes widened. She blinked at him. Once. Twice. She took a small, shaky step towards him.

"_Yes_,_ my dear_," Eli thought, a smirk playing on his lips. "_Come closer_… _Come to me_…_ Let me know you_, _and all your little secrets_…_ Do you have any idea how desirable you are_?_ Phantom I may be_,_ but a man still has his needs_…"

"You're here…" she whispered.

Eli gracefully stepped from the shadows. Rose's breaths came out in quick, white puffs in the cold air.

"_Come to me_…" he thought. "_Let me see you_,_ in all your beauty_…_ Let me touch you_…_ I want **flesh**_… _Think of the all the pleasures we can enjoy_…_ Just a bit closer_,_ now_…_ How I love the way you move_… _Come to me_…_ My **angel**_…"

"Eli?"

Eli took a step back from the girl, the spell she cast over him broken. How could she know his name? Who on earth was this girl?

A smile broke out across the girl's face as tears filled her lovely eyes. "Eli!" she cried. She ran towards him and threw her arms around his waist, burying her face into his chest.

Eli was startled by this woman's actions. True, he had wanted her to come to him, but this was _not_ what he had had in mind! Didn't she realize that she was embracing the Phantom of the Opera? Why didn't she fear him? How did she know his name?

This female was confusing him… And Eli didn't like being confused!

He whipped his Punjab lasso around the girl's neck and pulled it tight. Rose's eyes went wide, her brow furrowing with bewilderment. She tried desperately to get her fingers beneath the rope.

"E-Eli?" she squeaked. "Wha… What… are you… doing?"

"Elijah is not pleased with you," the boy informed her as his soul slipped even farther away from the world and Darkness shrouded his whole being. "Elijah does not like you anymore… He wants you to go away…"

Rose choked for air. "But… I… don't understand… I… I… I lov–"

Eli cut off her words by pulling even harder on the rope. A cold smirk played upon his lips. "It hurts me to destroy something of such beauty, though," he murmured as he let one hand reach down to caress her thigh while the other kept a firm grip on the noose. "What pleasures we might have known…"

Rose's eyes were full of fear. Through the material of her dress, she could feel his hand was as cold as ice. The death drums began to beat inside Eli's mind. "_Kill_…_ Kill_…_ Kill_…"

Rose opened her mouth, trying to draw in air, but to no avail. Eli chuckled at her pathetic attempts at breathing. A few more moments and her desirable body would fall limp in his arms.

"Die, sweet little angel… Die…"

"E… li…" she gasped. "It… It's me… Rose…"

_Rose_…

Rose.

Rose!

XxXxX

**Angel: _Le gasp_! What will happen now?**

**Erik: Will she die?**

**Angel: I'm not allowed to say.**

**Erik: Will _he_ die?**

**Angel: Well, if my lovely reviewers push the pretty periwinkle button at the bottom of the screen, they just might find out!**

**Erik: Everybody dies someday, you know...**

**Angel: How do I manage living with a depressing, morbid psychopath like you?**


	21. Falling Apart

**Angel: In this chapter, Eli's going to get a little freakier... Please don't be scared.**

**Erik: As soon as she says that, you _know_ you should be scared... _Very_ scared...**

**Angel: Do shut up... Enjoy!**

**_21. Falling Apart_**

Eli whipped off the rope just as Rose collapsed into his arms from lack of oxygen. Semi-consciously she clutched the front of his shirt.

Eli stared at her breathlessly. Could it be? Could this beautiful creature in his arms really be his Rose? Had she returned to him?

Eli supported Rose with one arm as he lifted a hand and traced her jaw line with his fingers. Rose gasped and flinched away from his frozen touch. Eli felt a warmth rise from the pit of his stomach once again.

"_Can it be_?_ Can it be my Rose_?" he wondered.

"_Of course it isn_'_t_!" a voice in his mind told him. "_Rose is dead_!_ Dead people do not just rise up from their graves_!"

Eli sighed. "_She is not Rose_… _Rose is gone_…_ Rose is never coming back_…_ ever_…"

The girl in his arms gazed at him through half-open eyes. "Eli…" she whispered. "What did they tell you?" She finally passed out, going limp in his arms.

Eli bit his lip, unsure of what to do with the girl. He was startled by the emotions that had suddenly risen to the surface. Uncertainty, doubt, hesitation… Who was this girl who held such power over his spirit?

Eli took her into his arms and carried her out of the cold air and into the warmth of the theatre. As he stared at her sleeping face, he wondered where he should take her. The lair? No, he didn't want this strange girl to know where his home was. The police? No, certainly not! If the police saw him, he would hang by his own rope! Madame Romard? Yes, the ballet mistress would know what to do with her.

Eli slipped through the darkened hallways to the ballet dormitories. Madame Romard's private room was down the same corridor. As silent as a shadow, his feet made not a sound on the floorboards, even with the girl in his arms. Eli paused before Madame Romard's door. Finally, he stooped down and laid the girl on the floor. Standing up, he rapped on the door twice and then vanished into the shadows once again.

Meg Romard opened the door and looked into the darkened hallway. "Who is it?" she called. "Who's there?" There was no one.

Meg grumbled. "_If this is some ballet rat_'_s idea of a joke_…"

Nervously, Meg leaned a little farther into the hallway. She looked right… then left… then down…

Meg's hand flew to her mouth, stifling a scream that would have otherwise wakened the entire opera house.

XxXxX

Eli rushed into the lair. That girl had done something to him. He could feel it within his very soul. She touched him somehow. Eli didn't like the feelings she had stirred within him. For once, he was unsure of himself. For once, he felt something other than darkness. It was if she had shone a light within his soul.

And it _scared_ him…

Eli entered the sitting room. His mother and father were relaxing on the couch. Erik stood up as Eli entered the room. He had a bandage around his wrist from their 'dispute' earlier that morning.

"Son?" Erik said, obviously noticing how frazzled the boy looked. "Is everything alright?"

Eli shrugged out of his cloak and hung it on a hook on the wall. "Elijah is fine," he said.

"That so?" Erik asked, a little wary of the way Eli spoke of himself in third-person. "You look as though you've seen a ghost!"

Eli couldn't stop the nauseating twisting sensation in his stomach as his father spoke those words. "_Maybe so_," he thought.

"You look like Hell," Erik said as Eli placed a hand against the nearest wall to support himself. "Are you hurt? Sick? What's wrong?"

"Rose," Eli said suddenly.

Erik looked taken aback. "What did you say?"

"Rose… the truth about Rose…" He turned to face his father. "Are you certain…? Are you sure she is dead? Is it possible…? Could Rose still be alive today?"

Eli was too distracted to notice the glances his parents exchanged. Erik sighed when he spoke. "I'm sorry… It was a terrible tragedy… The end wasn't painful for her… It was just a tragic accident… There was nothing anyone could do…"

"So she really is gone, then?" the boy asked. "You are sure? Elijah will never see her again?"

Erik reached out and put a hand on Eli's shoulder. To his slight surprise, Eli did not shove it off. "You won't see her again… But you'll learn to live without her… We're Phantoms, remember? You'll learn to how to live life alone…"

"Of course," the boy whispered. "I am a Phantom…"

"You look tired," Erik commented. "Why don't you go rest in your room?"

Eli nodded. "Yes… Elijah requires rest…" He turned on his heel and strode out the room.

Erik stood planted where he was until he heard the slam of Eli's door. Then he briskly walked out of the room. Fantine stood up from her place on the couch and slowly followed him. She watched from the doorway of the sitting room as Erik went up to Eli's bedroom door. From his pocket he produced a small key. He inserted it into the lock and twisted it until he heard a click.

Erik paused. He expected to hear the boy's screams from inside, pounding on the door and demanding to be released. But there was nothing. Only silence. Erik was left to assume that either Eli hadn't heard the sound of the door locking, or he had and simply didn't care. Either scenario seemed equally possible.

Erik turned and saw Fantine watching him.

"Do you think it will stop him?" she asked. "Do you think he'll be less dangerous in there?"

Erik slowly cast his gaze to the floor. "It will have to do for the time-being…"

"How long will you keep him in there?"

Erik met her gaze. His eyes were full of determination. "I'm prepared to leave him in there for the rest of his life, if necessary…"

Fantine gasped. "The rest of his _life_? But Erik, he's our son!"

"It is time to face the facts, Fantine," Erik said as he moved closer to her. He took her face into his hands. "That boy may _look_ like our son, but the man we raised is not there anymore… We must be prepared to accept our deepest fears…"

"I can't…" she whispered. "I… I just can't! He's our child! He'll always be our boy! I cannot! I cannot just give up on him, Erik! We've already lost one child! I won't lose him, too!"

Erik held her close as he felt her tears soak through his shirt. "Shh…" he whispered. "Don't be afraid… I know it's hard… But we are doing what is best for everyone… You must be brave, my love… You must do what is right…" Erik kissed the top of her head and pulled away from her. "Rest, my darling… I must go to the surface, now… I believe I may have a little damage-control to do." So saying, he donned his mask and his cloak and headed for the boat.

Fantine returned to the sitting room and curled up on the couch. "Everything is falling apart," she whispered to no one.

As she sat alone on the couch, Erik's words echoed through her mind. "_You must do what is right_…"

"_If only we hadn_'_t sent the de Chagny girl away_," she thought. "_Perhaps things might have been different_…"

"_You must do what is right_…"

"_This is our fault_…_ He loved her_,_ and we took her away_…_ We took **love** away from him_!_ This_…_ **thing** he has become is a monster of our own creation_…_ Sometimes I wonder what things could have been like_…"

"_You must do what is right_…"

She lifted her head. Was it really too late? Was Eli's heart and soul dead? Was he really past help and hope? Was he beyond the point of no return?

"_You must do what is right_…"

Or could things still be changed? Could mistakes be rectified? Could the future that would have been be saved? Was there any time left?

"_You must do what is right_…"

Fantine stood up. "It is time to take matters into my own hands."

XxXxX

Eli sat on the edge of his bed. They had locked him in. So he was a prisoner now? No matter. He would die soon down here, anyway.

Eli thought of the girl. "_Why did Elijah not kill her_?" he wondered. "_She is not important_._ She means nothing_._ She is just like everyone else_!"

But the girl had reminded him so much of his Rose. In the heat of the moment, he hadn't been able to take her life. To slay a creature as pure and innocent as his Rose was a sin he wasn't quite sure he could handle.

"_Fool_!" the Darkness scolded him. "_Rose is dead_!_ Pitiful feelings of love and compassion are irrelevant now_._ Rose is no longer here_._ She will not see your misdeeds_…_ your killings_…_ So what does it matter_?_ All your life_,_ you knew you were different_._ Learning the truth about your father simply confirmed your suspicions_…_ You are not a man_!_ You are a monster_,_ the son of a madman and murderer_…_ You were not made to be loved_._ **Human beings** get to love_,_ be happy_,_ and run along with their pathetic_,_ meaningless existence_…_ But not you_…_ You are a monster_,_ condemned to Hell from the moment you were born_…_ Humans do what they do best_,_ and monsters do what they do best_…_ Monsters kill_…_ Monsters feed off pain_…_ Monsters delight in suffering_…_ Stop denying your true nature_!_ Stop pining for your lost love_,_ for the future and the happiness that was never meant to be_…_ You are a monster_!_ So do what you do best_…"

Eli laid back on his bed. "Elijah shall rest now," he thought. "And next time, he will not hesitate… The next head caught within the Phantom's noose will never breathe again!"

XxXxX

**Angel: I know this chapter was a bit boring... The next one will be better! A little...**

**Erik: Go, Oilers, go!**

**Angel: (_confused_) I thought he hated hockey... Must be the Timmy's I slipped into his tea. Wahoo! Oh, and review!**


	22. Lost Memories

**Angel: Thank you to my lovely reviewers... I think everyone is going to like this chapter... I think...**

**Erik: I'll still accept popcorn even you all hate it.**

**Angel: Enjoy!**

**_22. Lost Memories_**

Rose stirred from her slumber. A heavy fog rested upon her mind. Her throat ached, as though she had a bad cold. Her head hurt. A lot. As she lay with her eyes closed, it suddenly occurred to her that she was not sleeping on Albert's couch as she had been for the past two weeks. The mattress beneath her was comfortable and rough blankets itched at her smooth skin. Her eyelids flickered open.

Rose squinted against the light that seemed to glare at her from the lamp beside the bed she was lying on. The room seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn't quite place her finger on where she was.

"Hello?" Her voice was slightly strained and raspy when she spoke.

"Rose?" a familiar voice cried out. A blonde woman appeared above her. "Oh, thank goodness you're awake!"

"M-Madame Romard?" Rose whispered. "Where… am I?"

"Don't speak, my dear," Meg whispered. "You'll strain your voice… You're alright, now… You're in my room…"

Of course! This was the ballet mistress' private apartment!

Rose realized with a stab of pain that this was the very place where she had last seen Eli before his father had sent her away.

She had been overjoyed when she saw him on the roof… But then he took out that rope… She remembered the other ballerinas used to gossip about how the Phantom killed with a noose… The Punjab lasso, she recalled its name. Eli had put that rope around her neck and tried to strangle her! He said he didn't like her anymore… That he wanted her to go away…

What had his parents told him? Had they told him some horrible lie to explain her absence? Had they told her that she had left him? Betrayed him? What had they said to make him hate her so much? What could have made Eli want to kill her?

Another face appeared above Rose. She gasped when she recognized her.

"Mama!"

"Oh, Rose," Christine whispered as she knelt beside the bed. "I was so scared. When Madame found you, I feared the worst!"

"F-found me?"

"Yes," Meg said. "There was a knock at the door, and when I opened it, there you were unconscious on the floor!"

"How long… have I been… sleeping?" she managed.

"All night long and most of the day," Meg said. "It's late afternoon."

"Rose, what happened?" Christine asked. "Your last letter home said that you had left Paris… Your father didn't like the idea of you being so far away, but…" Christine looked ashamed. "We were too busy with our own problems to try to convince you to come back home… The last person I expected to see on Madame Romard's doorstep was you! Why where you there? Why were you unconscious? And the marks at your throat…" Rose lifted a hand and felt deep bruises around her neck. "Who did this to you?"

Rose fought back tears… the man she loved had tried to kill her!

"I… I didn't recognize him…" Rose answered her mother. And it was the truth. There was something so different about Eli, but she wasn't quite sure what it was. His eyes had been hard as stone… and empty, like an infinite galaxy that held not one single star. His touch, though she had always known it to be cold, was like the very icy hands of Death Himself! She was certain that if he were ever to touch her like that again, she would wither up and die in an instant!

"Did you get a good look at him?" Christine questioned her daughter.

Rose shook her head. "He was bad… really bad… evil… he… he said he wanted me to go away… and he… he touched me… he was so cold… I was so scared…"

Christine embraced her daughter. "Are you sure you didn't recognize him? Did he seem familiar at all?"

"I didn't know him," Rose whispered. "I don't know who or _what_ he was…"

Meg bit her lip. Rose thought she saw something flicker in the ballet mistress' eyes. But when Meg spoke again, all traces of that unnamed emotion were gone.

"We should take you to the doctor," Meg told Rose. "Perhaps he can give you something to numb the pain in your throat. Then, if you're feeling better, you and I will go buy some supper for the three of us."

"Wait," Rose cried. Then she put a hand to her throat. Attempting to speak too loudly had hurt her. "Albert Burford," she said, a bit more quietly. "I… I've been living with him… He'll be worried… He doesn't know where I am…"

Meg smiled at the girl. "Don't worry… He came by late last night, looking for you. I recognized him as Firmin and Andre's new lawyer. He was quite concerned. He feared that something had happened to you. But when I assured him that you were safe in the care of your mother and ballet mistress, he was quite relieved… And he asked that, when you woke, if we would send you his regards. He even said he would come by later in the week to see you when you are feeling better. I'm glad you have been staying with Albert… He's a good man."

"You… you speak as though you know him personally…" Rose whispered.

Christine smiled faintly. "We do… or _did_, at least… Many years ago, he had been courting a friend of ours…"

Rose's eyes shot open with the memory. Albert had once been engaged to Lady Phantom, the former ballerina of the Opera Populaire! If Lady Phantom had once been a dancer, then she must have at one point danced with Christine and Meg in the Corps du Ballet! Could it be that her mother and Madame Romard were acquainted with the ghost? Perhaps… maybe even befriended by her?

Rose shuddered. The thought of her mother and ballet mistress associating with the Opera Ghost's wife was disturbing to say the least.

"Come, let's get you out of that dirty dress," Meg said. "You should be able to fit into one of mine… Then we'll go to the doctor…"

As Meg helped Rose sit up and went to fetch a dress from her wardrobe, Rose turned to Christine.

"Mama? Why are you here? Why aren't at home with Papa?"

Christine stared at the floor. "Your father and I… we… well, we've been having some problems… A couple weeks ago, I decided to come stay here with Meg Romard…"

Rose gasped. "You're not leaving Papa, are you?"

Christine shook her head. "No, child… I'm just giving your father some time alone… I think some time apart to think will be good for the both of us… I just hope we can get past this soon…"

Rose looked over at Meg. "Madame? May I stay here with you and Mama? Just until we're ready to return home?"

Meg nodded. "Of course, my dear. There are some extra sleeping cots in the storage area of the theatre. I'll bring a couple in here so you two have a place to sleep."

Rose turned back to Christine. "I'm done running… When Papa is ready to take you back, I'm coming too…"

XxXxX

Eli awoke from his dreamless slumber. He lay unmoving on his bed for a moment. He silently recalled the day before. There had been some strange girl… He had intended to kill her, but…

Eli shot up in bed. He hadn't killed her! She survived! Eli felt cold fury build itself up in his chest. That was the second time someone had escaped his noose! He had failed, and it enraged him.

Eli got off of the bed and tried his bedroom door. It was locked! He backed away from the door slowly, glaring at it.

"So, this is how it is going to be?" he hissed. "Trap Elijah like a rat?"

He turned quickly from the door. Feeling the need to give vent to his anger, he went to his wardrobe. Clenching one hand tightly, he drew back his fist and slammed it into the heavy wooden piece of furniture.

When Eli drew his hand back, there was a fist-sized hole in the wood. Eli studied his own hand. The wood of the wardrobe had completely scraped the skin off of his knuckles. Large splinters were stuck under his skin. He barely felt the pain. All he could do was stand and gaze in wonder at the destruction caused by his own bare hands.

A cold smirk lighting his face, Eli continued to smash his fists into the wardrobe. In a matter of minutes, it was nothing more than a skeleton of wood. Eli reached inside, clutching fistfuls of clothing, and ripped them out of the decimated wardrobe, throwing them to the floor. Then he grabbed its very frame and twisted it with all his might. The wood gave a loud, painful groan and collapsed upon itself.

Eli stepped back and admired his handiwork. Then his eyes eagerly swept the room, searching for something else he could destroy. A bookshelf sat still in the corner. Eli strode over to it. He started grabbing books off of its shelves and whipping them as hard as he could across the room. Every so often, he would pause and tear the pages out of a book that he had in his hand, before scattering the paper and throwing its cover away. When, at last, the bookshelf was nearly empty, Eli began smashing it with his fists in the same manner he had with the wardrobe. One shelf at a time. Finally, Eli grabbed the whole unit from the wall and began smashing it against the stone floor. Wood and splinters flew in every direction. When he tired of the bookshelf, he simply threw what was left of it across the room.

It wasn't enough! He needed more to destroy!

Eli moved on to his desk. He was breathing heavily now. One swift kick from Eli's boot was all that was needed to snap the piece of furniture in half. Papers that had been sitting on the desk fell to the floor. His inkwell toppled over onto its side and leaked its contents out. Eli snatched at the papers on the floor. Some of them were unfinished compositions, others were sketches. Eli's eyes fell upon a sketch he had done months ago… It was a picture of Rose. He stood behind her with one arm around her waist, holding her firm against himself. His other arm was snaked around her shoulders, with one hand placed atop her heart. Rose had both of her hands placed lightly atop his. Her head rested against his chest, her eyes closed. She had a contented smile across her full lips. Eli had no mask on. When he was with her, he could just be himself.

Eli glared at the picture. It was mocking him! He would not have been surprised if the two characters on the page were to burst out laughing at him, taunting him because they were the very representation of what would forever remain beyond his grasp. He would never get to hold his Rose again… He would never see her smile…

Eli violently tore the papers apart. He did not stop until their remains floated softly to his feet like gently falling snow. He stooped down and picked up the inkwell and threw it as hard as he could. It landed with a clatter on another side of the room.

Eli stopped and glanced around at the mess he had made of his room. He could hardly believe that he had caused such destruction in less than an hour.

Spent, Eli collapsed onto his bed. He shut his eyes, but try as might, he could not force Rose's voice from his mind.

"**_Think of me_…_ Think of me fondly when we_'_ve said good_-_bye_…**"

"He cannot!" he cried out to the empty room. "Elijah cannot keep thinking about you! It is tearing him apart!"

"_Weak fool_," the Darkness taunted him. "_Your Rose is not coming back_…_ Can you not forget her_?"

"Elijah cannot…" he whispered. "She will always be there… _inside my mind_…"

"**_Remember me_**," her voice continued. She was steadily growing fainter. "**_Once in a while_…**"

"Please, do not leave Elijah," he begged the fading voice. "He needs you…"

"**_Please promise me you_'_ll try_…**"

She was silent now. Eli squeezed his eyes shut. He tried to picture her face… tried to remember her voice… but in vain… She was rapidly becoming a distant memory…

Eli swallowed hard and glanced at his hands. Dry blood caked his fingers. His knuckles were discoloured and slightly swollen. He could barely bend his fingers for the splinters that burrowed deep within his skin.

Who could love a monster? Who could love a creature capable of producing such carnage? Who could ever _want_ him?

"_I am a Phantom_…"

XxXxX

Christine sat alone in Meg's room. Meg and Rose had left together some time ago, and she expected that they would return soon. She sat at Meg's small desk, staring at Fantine's old dancing shoes. Christine knew they had been her favourite pair, once.

Christine's thoughts strayed to her daughter. Who would want to hurt a sweet child like Rose? She was perfectly harmless! Christine felt herself grow angry at just the thought of someone attempting to harm her daughter. If she ever caught the one responsible for hurting Rose, there would be Hell to pay!

Christine was shaken from her thoughts when she heard a strange voice.

"_Madame de Chagny_…"

Christine froze. She could have sworn she heard someone whisper her name in her ear. She glanced around the small apartment. She was alone.

"_Madame de Chagny_…"

The voice whispered in her other ear now! Christine's eyes darted around the room.

"Meg? Rose? Madame Giry?" she called. There was no reply. No one else was in the room.

"_I_'_m imagining things_," Christine thought dejectedly. "_Perhaps I am losing my mind_._ Perhaps I_'_m going funny_._ Perhaps_–"

"_Christine_,_ I need to talk to you_…" The voice was inside her head now!

"I know I'm not losing my mind!" Christine cried. "Where are you? How is it that I can hear your voice in my head?"

"_Ah_,_ cute little trick_,_ isn_'_t it_?" the voice said. "_My husband taught it to me_._ He_'_s quite the ventriloquist_,_ you know_."

"Fanny…" Christine whispered.

"_Yes_,_ it is I_," Fantine answered. "_I must speak with you on a matter of the greatest importance_."

"Where are you?" Christine demanded. "Show yourself, ghost!"

Fantine's harsh laughter echoed in her brain. "_Why_?_ So you can call the guards and have me arrested_?_ You must think me a fool_!"

Christine breathed deeply. "If you show yourself, I swear I will not try to trap you… I swear on… on our friendship…"

Fantine's voice was silent, as though she were considering what Christine said. Finally, a trapdoor from above opened and Fantine dropped to her feet with a sigh. She stood before Christine.

"On our friendship?" Fantine repeated. "I thought you despised me and my family. I thought you wished for me to simply disappear from your life!"

Christine sighed. "Despite the uneasiness between our families as of late, you are still the girl I befriended as a child… Nothing will ever change that…"

Fantine glanced at the floor. "I'm sorry," she said at last. "I'm sorry for everything… For threatening you, for threatening your family, for… for letting Erik send your daughter away…"

Christine furrowed her brow. "Send her away? But… when Rose wrote she said she left for personal reasons!"

Fantine nodded. "I'm sure she did… But that is not true… Erik did not want her in his theatre any longer, and so he frightened her…He made her leave…"

"Erik…" Christine whispered. "The Phantom's name is Erik…"

Fantine nodded. "You never knew… He never told you…"

"He called himself the Angel of Music," Christine recalled. "But he never disclosed his name. Perhaps he didn't trust me." Christine paused. "Has he… been treating you well?"

Fantine nodded. "He is a good husband… and a good father…"

"And… does he make you happy?"

"He does… but he would be terribly upset with me if he knew I was seeing you like this."

"Which begs the question…" Christine said. "Why are you here?"

Fantine sighed. "I have come here to ask you for your help…"

XxXxX

**Angel: Why do I keep leaving you guys hanging like that?**

**Erik: Because you're evil.**

**Angel: Oh.**


	23. Awakening

**Angel: It's so HOT today! It's been thirty degrees Celcius all day long! And my school doesn't have air-conditioning.**

**Erik: You mean the _classrooms_ don't have air-conditioning. Your principal's office is a rather lovely place to pass the time on a hot day.**

**Angel: Grr...**

**_23. Awakening_**

There was a sudden knock at the door of Meg's apartment. "Christine!" Meg's voice called.

Christine glanced at Fantine. Fantine nodded her head. "Let her in…"

Christine opened the door and Meg entered the room, followed by Rose. Both women had their arms full of groceries.

"This may not be the gourmet food you are used to," Meg said, not noticing Fantine. "But Rose and I picked up some bread and milk and we even got a box of those English sweets that you like so much. The doctor gave Rose some medicine for her throat and she seems to be doing much better. She can speak without pain, and–" Meg stopped short when she saw Fantine standing behind Christine. "F-Fanny?" she stuttered out. "What are you doing here?" Following Fantine's miscarriage, Meg hadn't expected her to leave her lair for at least another week. Why she was here, now, and with _Christine_ of all people, was beyond her!

Rose's eyes widened when she saw the masked woman. Her mouth opened in an expression of pure terror. She dropped the groceries that she had been holding.

"It's Lady Phantom!" Rose shrieked as loudly as her injured voice would allow her. "God help us all!"

Fantine flew forward in a blur of black, pinning the girl to the wall and clamping a hand over her mouth. Rose's muffled cries struggled out from behind Fantine's palm.

"Shh!" the masked one hissed. "Do you want the entire opera house to hear you?"

Christine rushed to Fantine's side. "Don't cry out," she told her daughter gently. "She won't hurt you."

Rose's gaze shifted between Christine's lovely face and Fantine's masked one. Fantine's dark eyes were stern, but there was no menace in them. Rose had always feared the Phantom, who had openly threatened her, who admitted to murder, who seemed to relish the expression of terror on her face every time he looked at her… But his wife? The ugly, scarred face who stood by him, as silent and obedient as any wife is expected to be… The woman who neither encouraged nor disagreed with him when he threw poor Rose out of the theatre… The woman who had defended Eli against Christine's insults before being exposed… Even now, Rose didn't know what to make of her. Christine had said that she would not harm anyone… Was she right?

A reluctant nod from Rose told Fantine that the girl would cooperate. She released her.

Almost immediately, Rose fell before Fantine's feet, weeping. She clutched the hem of Fantine's dress and refused to let go.

"Please!" she sobbed. "Don't tell him I came back! I made no attempt to seek your son out! I did not mean for us to meet! Oh, the Phantom shall surely kill me for this! That is, if the _Son of the Phantom_ does not do the job first!"

"Rose," Christine whispered. "What are you saying?"

Fantine was taken aback. "Child, what are you raving about?"

Rose gazed up at Fantine. "What did you tell him? What lies have you created to make Eli hate me so? I met him last night… Purely by accident! But I met him! In a single moment of madness I forgot myself and my promise and I ran to embrace him. That's when he pulled out that horrible noose! The Punjab lasso! He put it over my head, and… Oh, Lord in Heaven, he tried to _kill_ me! Oh, what did you tell him? Did you say that I had been unfaithful? That I had been playing with him? What story could you have possibly fabricated to make him wish me dead?"

Christine glanced at Fantine. "You mean… Your son… He tried to _kill_ my daughter?" Christine looked back at Rose. "That's where you got those bruises, isn't it? The Son of the Phantom tried to murder you!"

Fantine shut her eyes and rubbed her temples, feeling a terrible migraine coming on. "Please!" she cried. "His name is _Elijah_! _Not_ Son of the Phantom!" She turned to Rose. "Please, child… I don't understand what you are talking about… Start from the beginning… What happened last night?"

"I was standing on the roof," Rose whispered. "I was alone. I… I just wanted to be there, one last time. Eli and I used to go there all the time. As I stood alone, I felt someone watching me. I turned around, and there Eli was, watching me! Not making a sound… Just staring… I ran to him, but then he caught me in his noose. He told me he didn't like me anymore. He said he wanted me to go away. He touched me as he strangled me… Oh, his touch was like ice! Like… like death! Like his body was already dead but refused to stop functioning. I cried out to him. I said, "Eli, it's me! Rose!" He seemed to pause, and then he took the noose off. I was so light-headed from lack of air that I simply collapsed into his arms. The next thing I remember was waking up here! I have been afraid to venture beyond this room by myself, lest he return to finish me off!"

Before Rose had finished her narrative, Fantine was already weeping. With a despairing cry, she ripped her mask from her face, ignoring the startled gasps of the other women at her hideous visage, and sobbed into her hands.

"With the intent of saving him, we only created a monster," she choked. "Oh, may God condemn us both to eternal Hell!"

"Fanny?" Christine whispered. "What are you saying?"

Fantine turned to Rose and took the girl's hand. Rose shuddered as the charred skull gazed at her pleadingly, tears streaming down her ruined face.

"Child," Fantine whispered. "As you love my son, I beg you to forgive me! And forgive my husband! We thought we were doing what was best for everyone. But Eli needed you more than we ever could have realized. Taking you away from him meant taking away everything that was good in his life! And now look what has happened! This is all our fault…"

"The blame is not entirely yours," Christine said quietly. "It is also mine… and Raoul's… We should not have been so judgemental…"

"The fault is mine, also," Meg said. "I should have tried to dissuade you and Erik from your decision, but I did nothing."

"I don't understand!" Rose cried. "Will someone please tell me what is going on? What did you tell Eli?"

"We told Eli that you _died_!" Fantine cried.

Rose gasped. "Why?"

Fantine closed her eyes. "We wanted him to believe that you were gone… Erik… he didn't want Eli to hate you. He didn't want him to think that you had simply left him… rejected him… He said it would make the boy carry a grudge. He didn't want Eli turning into a bitter, hard-hearted man. He thought that Eli would grieve and then move on. But his condition is growing worse with each passing day. I don't know if we can control him anymore."

"His condition?" Rose repeated. "What has happened?"

Meg sighed. "After Eli was told that you were dead, it was if he ceased to live… He stopped talking, stopped eating, stopped doing… _anything_! No doctor could explain his behaviour."

"Then some weeks ago," Fantine continued, "he rose from bed! He was as well as could be! But… he was not Eli…"

"What do you mean?" Rose whimpered. "What do you mean he was not Eli?"

"That boy," Fantine whispered. "He was cold. Unfeeling. And he refused to remove his mask, even in the house! He was violent, insensitive. He frightened me. I think he even frightened Erik!"

Fantine had to stop for a moment, her emotion too great to continue.

"Last night," she said finally, "I assume after his meeting with you, he came back to the lair… and he seemed quite shaken up! You did something to him, Rose… Something about you stirred life within him. And… I need you to do that again…"

Rose's breath caught in her throat. "Wh-what are you saying?"

"We've locked him in his room," Fantine explained. "Please… come with me… see him… you're the only one who can heal him now."

Christine glanced at her friend. "Fantine… what you're asking her to do… won't it be dangerous?"

"We'll all be in far worse danger if she does nothing," Fantine said gravely.

"I'll go!" Rose cried. "If it helps Eli return to himself, I will go!"

"I'm coming too," Christine said. "I… I want to help…"

"Count me in," Meg added.

The four women left the room and began their quest underground.

XxXxX

Raoul stood in the darkness a few yards down the hall from Meg Romard's private room. In one hand he held a bunch of flowers. He shifted from one foot to the other as he rehearsed what he was going to say to his wife.

"Christine, uh… How are you? Good? Uh, that's wonderful! I, uh… I got you these flowers because I… I, uh… I want you to come home. Yes, yes, that's it! And, uh… I forgive you for… no, wait… I'm glad you told me the truth and I'm sorry I overreacted… yes, that's good!"

Raoul took a breath and prepared to walk over to the door when it suddenly opened! He jumped back and hid in the shadows.

A black form emerged from the room. "This way!" it hissed. "Quickly! Quickly!"

Following the shadow Raoul made out the forms of Meg Romard, Christine… and Rose!

"_What is she doing here_?" Raoul wondered.

The three women followed the shadow down the hallway. Raoul dropped the flowers and drew his sword, following the group undetected.

XxXxX

Erik sighed unhappily as he made his way to the prima donna's dressing room to return to his lair through the mirror. His wrist still ached terribly, but it was nothing compared to the pain that was weighing on his heart. For the first time ever, he really didn't want to go home. He didn't want to face his son. But he had no choice.

Erik stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a form standing before the door of the dressing room. In a flash, he drew back, hiding himself in the shadows.

He made out the form of the Vicomte de Chagny, sword drawn, stealthily entering the room.

"_The little worm is going to enter my lair_!" he realized.

Removing his Punjab lasso from his belt, Erik followed the Vicomte into the darkness.

XxXxX

Eli fiddled with the lock to his bedroom door until it came open with a satisfying click.

"Elijah comes and goes as he pleases," he muttered to no one in particular.

He stepped into the main room… and came face-to-face with Fantine.

"Mother," he nodded a curt greeting.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Where Elijah wants to go," he answered calmly, though his eyes blazed beneath the mask.

"You know I can't let you leave," she said.

"Do not think Elijah will let you stand in his way!" he growled. His fingers twitched, and Fantine understood his meaning.

"You will not kill your own mother," she said with conviction. "I know you're still in there, son… Somewhere inside… You are not the monster you have let yourself become… and _she_ wouldn't want you to kill me, either."

"Who?" the boy asked emotionlessly.

"Me."

Eli turned to the voice. At the shore stood Meg, Christine… and Rose…

Eli blinked at her.

"It's me, Eli," Rose said as she approached him slowly. "You must remember!"

Eli moved closer to her, until he was mere inches away. He cocked his head and studied her curiously.

"You are familiar," he stated, but his expression remained stony.

"It's me, Eli! It's Rose!"

Eli shook his head. "Rose is dead…"

"No, I'm not!" Rose insisted. "I'm here! I'm alive!"

Eli stepped back, still shaking his head. "She died…"

"Eli, you must believe me!"

"Speak no more of her!" Eli commanded, turning to walk away. "She does not matter anymore!"

Rose could feel her heart breaking as he turned his back on her. His refusal to believe her made her want to scream. With tears in her eyes, Rose resorted to her last weapon.

"**_Say you_'_ll love me every waking moment_,**" she begged.

Eli froze in his tracks.

"**_Turn my head with talk of summertime_…**"

His heart gave an irregular thump as he slowly turned to face her.

"**_Say you need me with you now and always_…**"

Eli closed his eyes. Tears formed under his eyelids as he felt the Darkness retreat.

"**_Promise me that all you said was true_…**" Rose paused, raising a hand to her throat as she fought to sing against the pain of her injury.

"That's all I ask of you," she whispered.

"**_Let me be your shelter_,**" Eli's voice shook. "**_Let me be your light_._ You_'_re safe_._ No one will find you_._ Your fears are far behind you_.**"

Rose approached him slowly. "**_All I want is freedom_._ A world with no more night_._ And you_,_ always beside me_,_ to hold me and to hide me_.**"

Eli suddenly rushed forward and took her into his arms. "**_Then say you_'_ll share with me one love_,_ one lifetime_._ Lead me_,_ save me from my solitude_._ Say you want me with you here_,_ beside you_._ Anywhere you go_,_ let me go too_!**" He paused, lifting a hand to remove his mask. Freed from the leather barrier, he looked deep into her eyes. "**_Love me_,**" he sang whisper-softly. "**_That_'_s all I ask of you_…**"

Rose's eyes sparkled through her tears. "I love you, Eli."

"I love you, my Rose…"

Rose closed her eyes and tilted her face up to him. He smiled a true, genuine smile – the first one in months – and leaned down to savour her sweet lips.

"Get away from her!"

Eli jumped at the sound of the angry voice and turned to see Raoul de Chagny entering the lair with his sword drawn.

"Step away from my daughter!" he growled as he stepped out of the lake.

"Raoul, don't!" Christine cried.

Raoul glared at her. "I'll deal with you, later! Whatever possessed you to willingly bring our daughter down _here_ is beyond me!" Raoul turned to look at Eli. "But right now I have some unfinished business to take care of!"

Fantine stepped between him and her son. "I wouldn't try that, Monsieur!" she said dangerously.

Raoul turned his blade on the masked woman, pointing its end at her throat. "Do not think that I will not do away with _you_ as well!"

Then suddenly, Raoul found himself unable to breathe. He tried to draw in a breath, but to no avail. His eyes bugged out as he clutched at his throat and realized that he had been caught with the Punjab lasso!

"I don't take kindly to cowards threatening my wife!" Erik hissed into his ear.

"Raoul!" Christine cried. She turned to Erik. "Please," she begged. "Let him go!"

"You bought his life once for the price of a kiss," Erik informed her. "_This_ time, I will not let you off so easily!"

"Erik, stop this!" Fantine cried. "I will not have you commit murder in our home!"

"The Vicomte has been nothing but trouble!" Erik growled. "I am doing what is best for our family!"

"No!" Fantine shouted as she grabbed the sword from Raoul's hand and easily sliced through the catgut. Raoul gasped for breath as he removed the remnant of the Punjab lasso from his neck. Erik stood holding the other half of the noose in his hands, staring at Fantine disbelievingly.

"You meddlesome wench!" he hissed.

"You ignorant fool!" she countered.

"I'm beginning to think I'm the only sane person left in this family!" Erik growled as he threw the piece of rope down. "What has gotten into you? You're behaving worse than Eli!"

"And whose fault would that be, _sir_?" Eli asked coldly.

Erik turned and faced Eli, eyes wide. "E-Eli? Son?" he whispered. "Is… Is it you?"

"Yes, sir," Eli said, pulling Rose close. "I'm alright now… Thanks to Rose…"

Erik glared at the girl. "I told you to leave!" he shouted. "You foolish girl!"

Eli gawked at his father. "You made her go? You made her go when you _knew_ how important she was to me?"

Raoul faced Erik. "How dare you threaten my daughter?"

Erik scowled at him. "Don't you dare blame _me_ for this, Vicomte! You brought this upon yourself!"

Raoul sneered. "I suppose you're right for once… None of this would be happening if I had killed that wretched boy when I had the chance!"

Rose's eyes flew wide. "Papa! It _was_ you? How could you?"

"So you admit it!" Erik shouted. "You tried to kill an unarmed boy!"

"I was trying to protect my daughter!" Raoul countered. "That's what _good_ fathers do!"

Erik bristled. "You dare imply that I am _not_ a good father? Everything I have done has been for my family!"

"Does that include seducing my wife?" Raoul asked mockingly.

"Your wife returned of her own accord!" Erik snapped. "I sent her away!"

"Raoul, please!" Christine cried. "I love you! I was young and foolish when I came back here! You're the only one I want to be with!"

Erik glared at the Vicomte. "Listen to her, you fool! She has made her choice. She made it over twenty years ago! There is no more love between us! So don't _you_ come down here and accuse _me_ of being a bad father!"

Eli stepped forward, bringing Rose with him.

"_Now_ will you tell us the truth?" he asked, with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "You know… Since you're all here?"

The others fell silent, exchanging glances. They all knew that they couldn't keep secrets from their children anymore. They were in love, and they deserved to know everything.

It was time…

XxXxX

**Angel: OK, the next chapter is a little anti-climactic, but there's a couple after that which I think are very lovely... _Sniff_... It's almost over!**

**Erik: I won't apologize to the Fop... I won't, I won't, I won't!**

**Angel: Review!**


	24. Confessions

**Angel: This chapter is emotional and sappy and disgustinly sentimental...**

**Erik: Just like your boyfriend.**

**Angel: But you're gonna read it and like it! So there!**

**_24. Confessions_**

Erik sighed. "I suppose we have withheld the truth long enough." He glanced at the de Chagnys. "But your daughter shall hear _our_ side of the story, too!"

Raoul and Christine nodded their heads and gestured for him to begin.

Erik faced Eli and Rose. "I suppose the ideal place to begin would be at the beginning, no?" Erik paused to collect his thoughts and continued. "As I am sure you both know, I was born with this corpse's face." He touched his mask, closing his eyes. "My own mother could not bear the sight. She never let me touch her. Every time I tried to show affection, she would run and throw me my mask. In time, I left. I decided that if I could not find acceptance with her, I would seek it elsewhere.

"A few days after I left her, I was found by gypsies travelling along the road to Paris. They took me and made me something of an attraction. That is to say, they turned me into a freak show. 'The Devil's Child' I believe they called me. People paid a pretty penny to see me unmasked. If I recall correctly, my tent became the most valuable in the whole camp!

"When I was a bit older… nine or ten, I think… I finally met someone who did not laugh when the gypsies beat me, or cheer when my monstrous face was exposed for all to see. It was Madame Giry… She felt sorry for me… But you see, the night I met her was the night I finally had enough of the abuse. I found a piece of rope… I put it over my keeper's head… and I strangled him to death…

"But it wasn't until the gypsy lay dead on the ground, staring at me with lifeless eyes, that I realized Madame Giry had returned. She saw what I had done. I would have expected her to run from that tent screaming murder… But she did not. She helped me escape, just as I heard shouts of murder rising from the camp. As the mob closed in, she helped me enter the Opera Populaire through the sewers. So you see, that night, the Phantom of the Opera was born… And for twenty years I lived down here all alone… Then… then I met someone who I thought might save me from my solitude…"

"My father died when I was seven," Christine said. She smiled at Rose. "Your father and I were childhood sweethearts… When I had to leave him and my home to come live in the ballet dormitories of the opera house, I felt so heartbroken and alone… When my father lay dying, he promised me that I would be protected by the Angel of Music. I used to go to the Chapel every night to pray to my father. I would lie prostrate on the floor, begging him to send the Angel of Music soon, because I was so lonely and I couldn't bear to live with a broken promise… Then one night, a voice answered me…"

Eli looked at his father. "It was you, wasn't it?"

Erik sighed. "Back then, I prided myself on my inability to feel any compassion for my fellow man… But then I saw that little girl… Weeping and begging her father to send the Angel of Music to her… I couldn't bear to see her unhappy any longer. So I told her that I was her long-awaited Angel… Yes, I know it was a lie… But back then, my only desire was to comfort her. And the joy I saw in her eyes made it all worth it…"

"He started teaching me how to sing," Christine said. "I thrived under his instruction."

"But the fatherly love I had felt for her at first," Erik said, "turned into an obsession. I found myself needing her more and more. She was all I thought about. I… I even had a _wedding dress_ made for her!"

Fantine raised an eyebrow. "You never told _me_ that," she said.

"I didn't want to upset you, darling," he muttered.

"Nine years after Christine left," Raoul said, "I became the patron of this theatre… It's true, I was the business partner here once before…"

"Carlotta, the prima donna at that time, had another temper tantrum and left the theatre in a huff," Christine said. "Madame Giry, by Erik's order, told Firmin and Andre to let _me_ sing in the diva's place."

"I remember that day," Fantine said. "You surprised us all… None of us knew that you could sing so beautifully."

Eli glanced at Fantine. "You mean… you were _there_?"

"Yes, Eli… I used to be a ballerina…"

"So you really _were_ a dancer!" he exclaimed. "But then… you weren't born deformed?"

"No," Fantine said quietly. "And we'll explain that soon…"

"I saw Christine as the Gala that night," Raoul said. "I recognized her as my childhood friend, so I went to her dressing room to see her. As you can imagine, my bliss was so great that I left as quickly as I had entered to order a carriage to take us to dinner. But not two minutes later, all of the lamps in the theatre were somehow extinguished and the whole building was thrown into darkness. I worried for Christine, so I returned to her room. But the door was locked! And inside the room, I heard a man's voice…"

"You," Eli looked at Erik. "Entered through the mirror, no doubt?"

Erik nodded. "I brought her here… The Vicomte had me worried, even then. I feared that I was losing Christine. I brought her down here in the hopes that she would somehow forget the Vicomte and remain with me. She saw her wedding dress and fainted. So I let her sleep here for the night."

"I awoke the next morning," Christine said. "I saw Erik at his organ… and I guess I got overly curious. I walked straight up to him and took off his mask. He was so angry for being exposed. He called me a Pandora and a demon, among other things… But, then… He became so sad… So ashamed…"

"I knew you could never love me after seeing my face," Erik said.

"Shortly after I returned to the world above," Christine continued, "I was informed by the managers that I would be playing the pageboy in the upcoming performance of _Il Muto_."

"It was a direct violation of the Phantom's orders," Meg put in. "You see, Erik had wanted Christine to play the leading role. The managers cast her in the silent role to spite him. But Erik had warned them that 'a disaster beyond imagination' would occur if his orders were disobeyed."

"And a disaster did happen," Eli said quietly. "Didn't it?"

"When Carlotta opened her mouth to sing that night," Meg continued, "she croaked like a toad!"

Eli shot a look at his father. "How on earth did you manage _that_?"

Erik smirked a bit. "A little concoction I prepared, myself. I tampered with her throat spray. The solution closed up her throat, thus making her croak."

"But that hardly seems like a disaster to me," Rose said.

Erik's face grew serious. "No… the true disaster occurred when I murdered Joseph Buquet, the chief of the flies, and threw his body to the stage…"

"But… why did you do that?" Eli asked sadly. "To an innocent man?"

Erik scowled. "Buquet was far from innocent… He was a lecher and an alcoholic, among other things…" He sighed. "Christine became frightened of me, though. I followed her to the roof with the intention of soothing her fears… Perhaps try to explain myself as well… Only the Vicomte was with her. I watched them kiss… and then I knew Christine would never return my love.

"I spent the next three months trying to sooth my pain by completing my opera… my masterpiece…_ Don Juan Triumphant_… I went to the New Year's Eve Masquerade and demanded that the house perform my work… and have Christine star in it. I had a plan, you see… But then I discovered that Christine was already engaged to the Vicomte. That complicated matters, and I became impatient.

"I followed Christine to the cemetery on the anniversary of her father's death. I masqueraded as her Angel of Music once again. My intention was to trap her and bring her back to my lair… by force, if necessary…"

"I went to the cemetery as well," Raoul said. "I was worried about Christine being out there all alone. When I arrived, my fears were confirmed. I found Christine practically hypnotized, walking towards a voice that sang from the Daaé mausoleum. I stopped her and called her back…"

"As you can imagine," Erik said, "I was livid. This boy kept getting in my way. So I drew my sword and tried to take him off-guard. But the Vicomte was quick. We duelled, but he turned up the victor."

"I remember I was going to kill him," Raoul said. "But then Christine shouted for me to stop."

"I couldn't just watch him die," Christine said. "As much as he frightened me, I still cared for him…"

"I spoke with the managers that night… We made a plan to trap the Phantom. We knew that if Christine sang his opera, he was certain to be there. We locked down the building and brought in the police…"

"I overheard their plan," Erik said. "And I had one of my own. I disengaged the safety mechanism that supported the chandelier. And when the time came for the curtain to rise, I killed the man playing Don Juan… and took his place…

"Christine and I sang my masterpiece. Everything was just as I had dreamt it. For once, I was her lover. For once, I was the man who could have any woman he desired. But then Christine unmasked me in front of the whole audience. I felt betrayed… angry… hurt… furious that my fantasy had been so brutally destroyed. So I took a knife from my boot and cut the rope supporting the chandelier. Without the safety mechanism engaged, it plummeted to the stage. I hit a secret lever and fell safely through a trapdoor with Christine. Then the stage caught fire…"

"I had been dancing that night," Fantine said. "When I heard the screams, I ran out onto the stage to see what was the matter. Before I knew it, I was surrounded by flames. I was burned badly."

Eli looked horrified. He stared at Erik. "You… You are the one who caused her facial distortion! Don't you realize what you have done to her? She would have had a perfectly normal life if it hadn't been for you!"

"Eli, please," Fantine said. "I have forgiven him…"

"But how, Mother?" Eli asked. "How _could_ you forgive him? He didn't care who he hurt when he took Madame de Chagny! He just did as he pleased!"

"Eli, I had no way of knowing," Erik said. "But… you're right… I am undeserving of forgiveness… Believe me, if I could go back to that moment and stop myself from committing that horrible crime, I would!"

"But Erik," Fantine whispered. "Don't you see? If I had escaped unscathed, I would have walked away from the opera house that night and married Albert Burford. I never would have met you. I've told you before, the accident really was a blessing in disguise for me."

"Wait…" Raoul said, studying Fantine. "Wait… I remember you! I saw you collapse from smoke inhalation… I managed to get to you and pull you out before the flames cut you off completely."

Fantine stared at him. "It was you? All along it was you?" She could hardly believe it. "You saved my life!"

"But what happened after you took my mother?" Rose asked Erik.

"I brought her down here again," Erik replied. "I forced her to put on the wedding dress."

"After I arranged for Fantine to be taken to the hospital," Raoul said, "Madame Giry showed me the way to this place. The Phantom let me inside… but it was a trap… He caught me with his noose."

Eli swallowed hard. "Is… is that what everyone means by 'keep your hand at the level of your eyes?'"

Erik nodded. "I gave Christine an ultimatum. I told her that if she promised to stay with me forever, I would let the Vicomte go. If she refused, I would kill him."

Both Eli and Rose looked shocked by this revelation. How could anyone offer such a sadistic choice? Freedom at the price of another life, or condemnation to Hell while living?

"What did she say?" Rose whispered.

Erik closed his eyes with the memory. "Her response was to kiss me. You must understand, that was the first time _anyone_ had ever kissed me. I wept with joy… and then shame… You see, I understood that she would have willingly stayed as my eternal bride out of love for her Vicomte… not because she loved _me_. When, once, I had sought only to make her happy, here I was forcing her to make a decision that would make her very _un_happy. I would not have been able to live with myself. In the end, I let them both go, and then I escaped through a secret passage in one of the mirrors."

"I led a mob down here," Meg said. "I feared for Christine's safety. But when we arrived, there was no one here! A week later, Christine contacted me and told me what had happened in the tunnels below the opera house."

"After the Great Disaster was over and the hunt for the Phantom of the Opera had died down, I returned to my lair," Erik said. "But… I couldn't stay any longer… It was too painful… Everything reminded me of Christine… So I abandoned my home of over twenty years and became a drifter in the towns beyond the city. I spent years loathing mankind and feeling sorry for myself."

"I woke up some time later in the hospital," Fantine said. "My face was burned beyond recognition. I remember when I first saw it in the mirror. I tried to smash it, screaming that it couldn't be me… that that _thing_ couldn't be me. I never really thought myself a vain person. But when I saw what I had become, I couldn't bear to have anyone see me. I had been engaged to a man named Albert Burford at the time of the accident. But after seeing what I had become, I returned his ring. I couldn't marry him. Not with this face."

"It all makes sense," Rose said. "Albert told me about you!"

Fantine stared at her. "You… you _know_ him?"

"Yes… I had been working as his house-keeper for a little while…"

"So… he's alright, now?"

"He is doing wonderfully."

Fantine closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. "I didn't mean to hurt him," she whispered. "I just couldn't stand him seeing me this way… Erik had already abandoned the opera house by the time I left the hospital, so Madame Giry brought me here. When the theatre was repaired and reopened, I took over as the new Phantom. The managers resisted at first. It took a few small disasters of my own to convince them that I would not tolerate having my orders disobeyed. I won't speak of the things I did. As a ballet rat, I had heard a lot of gossip about the Phantom, and I had witnessed enough of his acts to know his style. So when I became the new Phantom, no one even suspected that I was not the original ghost… let alone that I was a woman!" She sighed. "I was lonely… and over the years I developed a certain interest in a chorus boy… Robert Romard…"

"You liked _Robert Romard_?" Eli asked incredulously. He could hardly believe his ears!

"A silly infatuation was all it was," Fantine said. "But I let it become an obsession. I started requesting roles for Robert. His career progressed swiftly and soon he became the leading tenor in the theatre."

"Five years after the great disaster," Erik said, "I decided to return home. I heard more talk of the Phantom and disasters, but cast it off as simply superstition and paranoia. I returned to the lair, only to find some strange woman here." Erik smirked. "Can you believe that the first time we met, your mother and I tried to kill each other?"

"My mask came off in our struggle and he saw my face. I screamed at him and told him to just kill me. I was tired of hiding… Tired of fighting… Instead, Erik allowed me to see his own face. That's when I knew that I was dealing with the Phantom. The _real_ Phantom. I hadn't known then that he had caused the chandelier crash, but I had known of the murders and of his ruthless control of the Opera Populaire. I tried to escape, but he wouldn't let me. He made me tell him how I came to live in his home. So I told him about my accident. But I lied and told him that it was _Albert_ who broke our engagement. I didn't want him to think of me as some vain little woman, though I didn't really understand then why I _cared_ what he thought of me."

"I felt guilty for what I had done to her," Erik said. "So I agreed to work as her partner and allow her to live here with me. But then I discovered her interest in Monsieur Romard. I didn't want her to make the same mistakes as I had with Christine, so when she wrote a note to the managers requesting that Robert be cast in the leading role of _Il Muto_, I changed her letter and had him playing the smallest role." Erik smirked with the memory. "She was certainly mad about that! We were standing up in the catwalks watching the performance when she figured out what I did. She ran at me and we both ended up falling to the stage." He grimaced. "She punched me in the jaw! Well, I knew we were in trouble. I had to think of a good explanation for why there were two phantoms. So I pulled her close and told the audience, quite simply, that she was my wife." He sighed. "I got us out of there, but she was quite peeved with me. However… later that night… she discovered that Monsieur Romard was romantically involved with Mademoiselle Giry… Meg."

Fantine nodded. "I felt abandoned… alone… But Erik… he comforted me… We started to become friends. He even kissed me once!"

"I started to realize my true feelings," Erik said. "But with them came terrible feelings of guilt. I couldn't go on deceiving her. So I told her the truth. I told her that it was, in fact, _me_ who had dropped the chandelier on her. She was upset and angry, as can be expected. Things became tense between us. On New Year's Eve I followed her to the winter masquerade. We started fighting, yelling and screaming at each other. Needless to say, our presence became blatantly obvious."

"I was very angry with Erik," Fantine explained. "I decided to get back at him by requesting that the house perform _Don Juan Triumphant_ starring Robert Romard. I thought, 'What better way to get revenge on him than to have his masterpiece performed by the man he believed to be my lover?'"

"I became rather irritated," Erik said. "I got even with her by requesting that the lead female role, Don Juan's lover, be assigned to Meg. Fantine and I returned home that night barely speaking. She ran off to her room and I went to my organ and composed. That's when I received a rather unexpected visit."

Christine looked at the floor. "Raoul had been away on business again. I was so lonely, and I felt that we were not as close as we had been when we were first married. I was young and confused. So I nearly made a terrible mistake. I returned to this place. I told Erik about my situation. I told him I wanted to stay. But he didn't want me anymore. He said he was in love with someone else. I couldn't handle it. I felt that Raoul had abandoned me, and now my Angel had rejected me as well. So I threw myself at him and kissed him."

"That's when I came out of my room," Fantine said. "I saw Christine kissing Erik. I thought he was kissing her back. I grabbed the Punjab lasso and threatened her with it. Erik tried to pull me off, so I slapped him and ran away to my room again."

"Erik told me to return to you, Raoul," Christine said. "And I am so glad that I did. I think it took leaving you to realize that you're the only man who could ever make me happy…"

Raoul moved closer to her and took her hands in his. "How could I have ever doubted your words?" he whispered.

"Fantine's outburst made me so miserable," Erik said. "So I went up to the surface and entered the nearest saloon… and I got myself drunk. That's when I met Monsieur Burford. He was inebriated and crying and began talking about Fantine… Then I discovered that it was _she_ who broke their engagement. I was rather intoxicated myself when I returned to the lair. I confronted Fantine. Needless to say, I behaved like an ass… She ended up having to kick me someplace tender to subdue me!"

"He had one Hell of a hangover the next morning," Fantine said. "So while he rested, I went up to observe rehearsals. I saw Robert and Meg go up to the roof and I followed. I saw him propose to her. I was angry, needless to say, but not because Robert had left me. I was angry because I felt that my old friends had gotten everything, leaving me with nothing. So I attacked Meg. But Erik had followed me to the roof without my knowledge, and stopped me from hurting her. In my fury, I revealed my true identity to Meg.

"I couldn't believe that Lady Phantom was really my childhood friend," Meg said. "She was so different. She had changed so much."

"A month later was the opening night for _Don Juan Triumphant_," Fantine continued. "I had begun to feel guilty for all the trouble I had caused Erik. I knew I had to leave him, but I didn't want to be alone again. So I devised a plan to get Robert back. But first, I wrote a letter to Erik explaining why I was leaving. Then I went backstage and grabbed Meg, gagging her and binding her. I took her place as Aminta. There was a secret hatch in the middle of the stage. It was my plan to use it to escape with Robert when he came out to sing with me as Don Juan."

"Fantine hadn't told me of her plan in the letter she left for me," Erik said. "But somehow I knew what she was going to do. When I went backstage and found Meg, my fears were confirmed. I freed her and told her to stay put. That I was going to take care of things. I found Robert, hit him over the head, and took his place as Don Juan."

"When Don Juan came out to sing," Fantine said, "I knew at once that he wasn't Robert. But I didn't know that it was Erik. It wasn't until our duet neared its end that I finally recognized him. But Robert had woken up. He came out and hit Erik over the head with a prop piece. So I grabbed Robert and escaped with him just as I had planned. I brought him back here with me."

"I heard shouts, so I came out onto the stage," Meg said. "I saw Fanny escape with Robert. I decided to follow her and try to talk to her. When I got here, she grabbed me and put her sword to my throat. Then she tried to make Robert choose between me and her."

"I woke up in the managers' office," Erik said. "Madame Giry told me what happened. I came here as fast as I could. When I arrived, I found Fantine threatening Meg."

"When I saw Erik," Fantine said, "I just couldn't go through with it. I released them both. I figured I'd just have to learn to live without love. But then Erik put his arms around me and told me that _he_ loved me. And it was then that I realized that I loved him, too." Fantine looked at Eli. "We found a small church just a few miles away and were wed that very same night. Two years later, you came into our lives. We had never been happier."

"Your mother returned to me and explained how lonely she felt," Raoul told Rose. "I began spending more and more time with her. We grew close again. Then, after seven years of barrenness, you were born." He swallowed hard. "I… I was nervous about bringing you to the Opera Populaire. I hoped that the Phantom was gone, or dead, or…" he trailed off. "When you were a child and I saw you with the Phantom's son, all the memories came surging back… I almost lost your mother the night of the Great Disaster. The fear I had felt that night… it just resurfaced… I didn't want to risk losing you, too…"

"I felt the very same way," Erik told Eli. "I have a habit of holding grudges… you know this… The hurt of being abandoned all those years ago never really left me… I couldn't stand the thought of my flesh and blood associating with theirs. My greatest fear was that they would reject you, too… Or that you would turn your back on _us_… We were only trying to protect you…"

Rose sighed. "So this is what you've been keeping from us? You've been carrying bitterness in your hearts over events that took place years ago!"

"You've made your problems _our_ problems," Eli said. "Can the past not be forgotten? Can we not forgive? Rose and I love each other! And we _will_ be together, whether you approve or not. Please… will you grant us happiness?"

Their parents were silent for some time. Finally, Erik gave a laugh.

"He is shaping up to be a rather decent Phantom, isn't he?" Erik paused, looking at the de Chagnys. "What do you think? I don't believe there's any way we're going to keep them apart, now."

Raoul sighed. "I suppose this has gone on long enough…"

"Vicomte… Christine…" Erik began. "Will you find it in your hearts to forgive me for the trouble I have caused?"

Raoul looked uncomfortable. "Of course… And… I'm sorry… for hurting your son… and for being so quick to judge…" He tentatively offered a hand to Erik. "Truce?"

Erik gingerly took his hand and shook it. "Why not?"

Christine turned to Eli and Rose. "Can you ever forgive us?"

Rose went forward and hugged her mother. "We already have."

Erik faced Eli. "I really screwed everything up, didn't I?" he said.

"I suppose you did," Eli admitted.

"It seems to be a talent of mine," he sighed. "This is all my fault."

Eli shook his head. "We all had a hand in this. You cannot blame yourself." He covered his face with a hand. "I made Mother lose her baby… Oh, God… I'm so sorry! It's all my fault."

Erik moved closer to his son. "Don't blame yourself, Eli… It's alright…" He sighed. "It is I who should be sorry… I've made your life so horrid…"

Eli raised his face. "You made my life _happy_!" he protested. "You are my father! You and Mother are the best parents I could have ever asked for! Everything that is good in me is from you! I'm a part of _you_!"

Erik smiled faintly. "I'm proud of you, Elijah…"

Eli could barely contain his joy when Erik spoke those words. He had waited sixteen long years to hear them, and now they were finally spoken.

Eli flew forward and embraced his father.

"I love you, Papa…"

"I love you, my son…"

XxXxX

**Angel: What'd you think, Erik?**

**Erik: (_Makes retching noises_).**

**Angel: How interesting... Please review!**


	25. Two Worlds, One Family

**Angel: I think this chapter is kind of cute... But some may find it slightly dull... D'ah well!**

**_25. Two Worlds, One Family_**

Eli lay awake in bed. The coldness of his lair was harsh, but the warm velvet sheets and heavy woollen blanket kept him warm.

But nothing warmed him as much as the woman who lay beside him.

Eli rolled over on his side and silently watched his wife. Rose's blonde ringlets were spread out across her pillow like an angel's wings. Her lovely lips were slightly parted. One hand lay daintily on her chest while the other rested up beside her face. On her ring finger, the golden wedding band he had given her glinted in the dim light.

Eli was distracted from admiring her when he felt a weight on his stomach.

"Papa!" a two-year-old girl giggled.

"Little Erika," Eli smiled as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. "Now, what do I always tell you?"

"Oh, yeah," the girl said sheepishly. She grabbed the blankets off Eli's chest and threw them over her head. "Ghosts are never seen," she said, her voice muffled by the blankets.

Eli reached up and pulled the blankets off her head. "But I think we can forgive you," he smiled. "After all… you are such a cute ghost!"

Erika smiled and threw her arms around his neck. Eli's daughter truly was an angel in his eyes. She had her mother's golden hair and porcelain skin. Her eyes were clear blue, like his own.

Eli even saw a bit of his father in her, for the right side of her face was slightly deformed. Though it was pale in comparison to Erik's deformity, it was still a rather unsightly blemish. Her eyes were mismatched, one being larger and slightly lower than the other. One side of her nose turned up just a little. Beneath her eye was a small patch of blotchy red skin. But, despite this abnormality, Eli and Rose knew that her differences were not so great that she would not be accepted by the world. It was the dawn of the twentieth century. People were not as prejudiced as they used to be.

What really made the difference was the love and care Erika received from her parents and grandparents. Through them, she learned that true beauty lies within one's heart, not the outward appearance.

Rose stirred in her sleep. She opened her eyes, looking over at her husband and daughter, and smiled.

"Up now, Lady Phantom," Eli grinned. "This theatre won't haunt itself."

The family got up and dressed. While Rose fixed her hair, Eli crouched by the shore of the lake. He casually glanced around the lair. His father had helped him build this place when he was eighteen. It gave him and Rose the freedom to begin their lives as newly weds, but it was always nice to know that family was just down the cavern.

Eli looked up when Rose came to stand beside him. Her blonde ringlets were pulled back from her face and she was wearing a mask – a requirement for her new status in life.

"How do I look?" she asked with a seductive smile on her face.

Eli stood up and took her hand. "Absolutely beautiful." He put on his own mask and cloak. "Erika!" he called. "It's time to go!"

Erika came running as fast as her short legs would carry her. "Can I haunt, too?" she begged.

"No not yet," Eli said, lifting her into the boat. "Not until you're older. You're going to stay with Grandpère and Grandmère le Fantôme today… You always like staying with them…"

"And if you're good," Rose said, "Grandpère and Grandmère de Chagny will take you out to dinner tonight."

As Eli poled the boat through the caverns, Erika began begging her mother for a story.

"Tell me about the ghost who fell in love with the angel!" she demanded, tugging at Rose's skirts excitedly.

Rose took the girl into her lap. "That story will take longer to tell than just one boat ride," she smiled.

"We're here," Eli said as the hull of the boat made contact with the rocks that formed the foundation of the home he had grown up in.

Erik was seated at his organ. Upon hearing the arrival of his son's family, he stood up and walked over to the lakeshore to meet them. His black hair now housed several silver streaks, but he still moved with all the dignity and grace that the former Phantom of the Opera should possess.

"Eli… Rose…" he greeted them in turn.

"Grandpère!" Erika squealed as she leapt from the boat. Erik knelt down and opened his arms to her. She ran to him and he scooped her up.

"And how is my little angel?" he asked her. "Keeping out of trouble?"

"We'll be back to pick her up around noon," Eli said. "I trust that won't be a problem?"

"Certainly not," Erik said. "It's actually rather nice to have a child around here again."

"Then we must bid you good day, Father," Eli said with a nod. He was about to push off from the shore when another voice echoed through the caverns.

"Fanny? Erik? Fanny!"

"Madame Romard?" Erik furrowed his brow. "Odd. We weren't expecting her."

Within moments, another boat appeared in the lair. Meg Romard was poling as fast as she could, breathing heavily from her effort. With her was the last man Erik had expected to see in his home.

"Monsieur Burford?" Erik said as Albert jumped from the boat onto dry land. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his sweaty brow.

"I'm sorry I had to appear unannounced," Albert panted. "Madame Romard was kind enough to bring me here. I must speak with Fanny. It is urgent!"

"Albert?" Fantine stepped from the sitting room when she heard his voice. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

Albert turned to her. "Fanny… I'm here on behalf of Elijah Chalifoux…"

Fantine looked shocked. "My father?"

"He is here, Fanny… Right here in Paris!"

"But…" she said quietly. "How can that be? He began living in London after Maman died. He sent me to train in the ballet dormitories soon after. I haven't seen him since I was a girl!"

"You don't understand, Fanny," Albert said. "Your father is dying…"

Fantine's breath left her all at once. "Dying? Papa?" She could barely take it all in. To learn that her father was back in Paris, after all these years, but on his deathbed? She put a hand on the nearest wall to steady herself, for fear that her knees would give out.

"It's leukemia," Albert said softly. "He came here a month ago so he could die in his city of origin. He hired me to help him finalize his will."

"Did you tell him about me?" Fantine whispered.

"I have not," Albert said. "I didn't feel it was my place. He believes you are dead, Fanny. You have been missing for so long." Albert took a step towards her. "He has very little time left. He misses you very much. I thought… perhaps… you might like the chance to say good-bye…"

"I don't know if I can!" Fantine cried. "To see him after all these years… only to lose him again?"

"Fantine," Erik spoke, putting Erika down. "Think about this…" He moved over to where she stood and gathered her trembling form against himself. "If you pass this opportunity up, you will not get another chance to say good-bye to him… You will not get another chance to hear his voice…" He looked into her eyes. "You will not get another chance to tell him that you love him…"

"I know you're right…" she whispered into his chest. "I just miss him so much…"

"I know you do," he said as he gently stroked her hair. "But you will not be alone… We'll all go with you… We'll be there for you…"

Fantine nodded and turned to look at Albert. "Take me to him…"

XxXxX

Albert ushered Erik, Fantine, Eli, Rose, and Erika into a grand home.

"Your father had not wished to be kept in a hospital during his last days," Albert explained. "He took up residence in this house and there are nurses attending him at all hours of the day. His room is on the second floor."

Erik glanced around the house as Albert led them up a winding staircase. "Your father seems well-to-do," Erik commented.

Fantine was purposefully quiet. Erik glanced at her. Why did she look so withdrawn all of a sudden?

Albert stopped before a large oak door. "This is his room. I'll send the nurse out. Wait here."

Albert entered the grand room. Sunlight poured in through a picture window on one wall. An expensive, spotless carpet covered the floor. In a large bed lay the ailing Elijah Chalifoux. His illness had made the old man painfully thin. His wrinkled skin was pasty white in colour, almost blending in with the white of his hair and beard. Yet his dark eyes remained bright and alert as he watched the man who entered his room.

"Burford," Chalifoux said in a voice that had once been powerful and commanding, now weak and strained. "I have not seen you in days! I was almost certain our next meeting would see me in a pine box!"

"You mustn't be so morbid, Monsieur," Albert said. "I told you I'd help you get your affairs in order, and I will."

"Well, do get on with it, Burford!" Chalifoux urged him. "I don't exactly have a lifetime to wait for you…"

"Indeed," Albert said. He turned to the nurse. "Nancy? Would you care to leave us, please?"

"Yes, Monsieur," the young woman curtsied. Then she made her way out of the room.

"Now, about my fortune," Chalifoux began. "I'm leaving a portion to you for your services. A third is to be divided up evenly among my employees. Another portion will settle my debts. The rest can go to charity, for all I care!"

"Are you certain of that, Monsieur?" Albert asked. "Have you no friends? No family to leave something to?"

"I have no friends," Chalifoux said miserably. "And all of my family are long dead. I may have been an important figure in my lifetime, Burford… But you can be sure that no one will be at this old dog's funeral…"

"Not even your daughter?" Albert asked. "Fantine?"

A look of pain passed over Chalifoux's features. "My dear little Fanny… You always speak of her as though she were alive today, Burford. But you are wrong. My Fanny is dead. It has been too long…"

"Are you certain?" Albert asked. "No one ever really knew what happened to her. She simply disappeared."

"I wish it were so," Chalifoux said. "I've prayed every night for one last chance to see my little girl… But there comes a time when one must face the truth…"

Albert stood silent for a long time. "I have brought someone to see you, Monsieur," he said as he headed for the door.

Chalifoux looked annoyed. "What now? Another clergy? I stopped believing in God's mercy years ago!"

"Maybe this will change your mind," Albert said. He opened the door and ushered in Fantine and her family.

Chalifoux's eyes widened. "_Marie_?" He blinked at the masked woman several times, then shook his head. "Forgive me, Madame… It's just… even with that mask, you seem to remind me so much of my wife!"

Fantine gazed with loving eyes upon the wasted form of her father. This man before her used to raise her onto his shoulders when she was a girl. He used to tell her stories and sing to her. He had been her hero, and she had been his angel. Overcome with emotion, Fantine choked out a sob.

"Dear Madame, why do you cry?" Chalifoux asked.

Fantine knelt by the old man's bedside, taking one of his hands into hers and kissing it. "I have missed you so much, Papa…" she whispered.

"Papa?" he furrowed his brow, scrutinizing the woman before him. Then it hit him. Her eyes were his. Her hair was her mother's. She looked at him and offered the smallest of smiles… it was just like his own!

"My Fantine!" he cried out. Fantine put her arms around her father and hugged him, kissing his cheeks. She felt his warm tears against her lips. He pulled back from her.

"But how? Where have you been? Why the mask?" The questions tumbled from his mouth like an avalanche.

"Please," Fantine silenced him. "I'll tell you everything, in time." She glanced at the floor, looking a little ashamed. "But I am not your beautiful little girl anymore, Papa… I have changed…"

"Your mask," Chalifoux said urgently. "Take off your mask. Let me see you."

Trembling, Fantine raised a hand and lifted the mask from her face. Chalifoux gasped, taken off guard by the sight of his daughter's face. But then he raised a shaky hand and tenderly caressed her scarred cheek.

"My darling Fanny… How did this happen?"

"Patience, Papa, I will tell you… But I have important people for you to meet…" Fantine stood up and held a hand out to Erik. He came forward and stood beside her. "This is my husband… His name is Erik…"

"Husband?" Chalifoux whispered, a smile lighting his face as tears flowed freely down his cheeks. "My little girl is married?"

Little Erika had grown curious of the man who was lying so still on the bed before her. She toddled forward and peeked at him from behind Fantine's skirts.

"Why're you crying?" she asked the old man innocently.

"Because I am so happy," he told her. "Who are you?"

"This is Erika," Fantine told him. "Your great-granddaughter."

Chalifoux's eyes sparkled. "You had children?"

Fantine nodded, turning to Eli and Rose, who still stood behind her. She gestured for them to come closer. When they stood beside her, Fantine turned back to her father. "Papa, this your grandson, Elijah…"

"Elijah," the old man whispered. "You named him after me?"

"I always told you I would name my first son after you, didn't I?"

"You were three years old when you made that promise!" Chalifoux exclaimed. "I never thought you would remember!"

"And of course," Fantine continued, "this is Eli's wife… Rose…"

Chalifoux took in the five figures before him. "All these years," he whispered. "Fanny… Your family is positively the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in this lifetime…"

Albert stepped forward. "Now, Monsieur le Comte… are you sure you don't want to make a few revisions to your will?"

Erik stared at Fantine. "Comte? Your father is a _Comte_?"

Fantine looked sheepish. "Did I forget to mention that when we were exchanging vows?"

"You're an _heiress_?"

"Soon to be very rich heiress," Chalifoux said with a smirk. He looked back at Albert. "I hope you don't mind settling on a smaller portion, Burford."

Albert smiled. "The original portion was far too large, dear Comte… It's not a problem."

"Good… and my employees will have to settle for a smaller portion, as well…" The old count looked up at his daughter. "Fantine and her family shall get the rest."

Fantine looked to Erik. "What on earth are we going to do with all that money?"

Erik hugged her close. "It's obvious… Eli and Rose shall get half, and do with it whatever they want… You and I shall use our portion to buy a home in the country, just as you used to dream! We'll get away from this city, away from all the people… We can have a quiet life, far away from here…"

"But, Father!" Eli cried. "You… you're going to leave the opera house? You're going to leave Rose and I?"

Erik turned to his son. "Eli, your mother and I have lived beneath the opera house for too many years, hiding from the world… Your mother has desired a life beyond those caves for many years now… I denied her for too long, telling her that you weren't ready for us to leave the theatre completely in your care, just yet… But you are a man, a husband, and a father now… I believe you are ready… Ready for your mother and I to let you go…"

"I… I'm not!" Eli cried. "How can I carry on without you? You have always been there! I'm not ready for you go!"

Erik sighed, placing a hand on Eli's shoulder. "You _are_ ready… even though you think you are not… You have held my title for several years now… You do not need me to help you anymore… I have taught you all that I know, and you have surpassed me… You have become a better man and Phantom than I will ever be…"

"No, you're wrong," Eli said, tears falling from his eyes now. "I can't do it without you… It's too hard!"

Erik looked upon his son with pity. "Que est-ce que je peux dire, mais cela n'est-il pas facile? Je ne peux pas soulever les pierres hors de votre sentier, et je ne peux pas pleurer vos larmes amères pour vous. Je veux si je pourrais, mais nous ne sommes pas un… Vous et moi… Enfant de mon corps… Os de mon os… Prunelle de mon oeil…"

"Eli…" Fantine said. "I have longed for the fields and meadows of my childhood for so long, now… I want to see the summer flowers… the winter snow… I want to feel the sunshine on my skin in a land where your father and I don't have to hide our faces… Freedom, Eli… We want freedom…"

"You're really going, aren't you?" Eli said sadly. "I'll never see you again…"

"That's not true, Eli," Fantine said. "Your father and I will visit you often… We will be together again…"

"And no matter the distance, my son," Erik said, "you know we'll always be with you… In you memories… And in your heart."

"Fanny?" Chalifoux rasped. Fantine went to sit by his side.

"Yes, Papa?"

"Won't you tell me, now?" he whispered. "Tell everything… from the beginning…"

Fantine took his hand. "Papa? Remember the stories you used to tell me before I went to sleep at night?"

Chalifoux nodded, smiling at the memories.

"I have a story for you, now," she said. "Only this one isn't about faeries or nymphs… And it's not about princes, dragons, dark wizards, or enchanted kingdoms… It's about a little boy, who was shamed into solitude… It's about a girl who learned how to live…" Fantine glanced at Eli and Rose. "And it's about a ghost who fell in love with an angel…"

Fantine began her story, and Chalifoux listened with wide eyes. He laughed at the amusing parts and cried at the sad parts. He listened, his eyes never leaving Fantine, as she told the story… beginning to end… When she finally finished, he took her hand.

"My dear," he smiled. "That was the story of ages… Legends will grow from it… It will change over time… But never let your grandchildren forget…"

"I promise, Papa," she whispered. "We will never forget…"

Chalifoux looked over at Erik. "And you," he said with the ghost of a smile on his lips, "you had better take care of my little girl… Or I shall rise up from my grave and haunt _you_, Monsieur le Fantôme… Protect my daughter always…"

Erik smiled softly and slipped an arm around Fantine's waist. "You have my word… I will always take care of her… Until my dying day…"

XxXxX

**Erik said a quote by Rosalie Sorrels in French in this chapter. This is the translation:**

"**What can I say, but that it's not easy? I cannot lift the stones out of your way and I can't cry your bitter tears for you. I would if I could, but we're not one… You and I… Child of my body… Bone of my bone… Apple of my eye…"**

**Angel: I _know_ aristocrats weren't into the Arts! But I don't care, because this is my story and I can do whatever I want! Muhahahaha!**

**Erik: You're a looney.**

**Fantine: Ha! I'm rich, so that makes me better than everyone! BOW TO ME!**

**Erik: Shut up, wench.**

**Fantine: You can't tell me what to do, you chauvanistic pig!**

**Angel: Hey, lovebirds? Tone it down.**

**Erik: (_mutters_) Wench...**

**Fantine: (_whispers_) Pig...**

**Angel: REVIEW!**


	26. Epilogue: The Story's End

**Angel: WAIT! DON'T GO! IT'S NOT OVER YET!**

**Erik: Angel! (_Wipes spittle off face_) Say it, don't spray it!**

**Angel: Sorry, Erik... Anyways, I'm sorry I didn't update sooner. My internet has been down for the past two days. But it's working today!**

**Erik: Good job, Captain Obvious.**

**Angel: Oh, do shut up... Anyways, this chapter is a bit of a tear-jerker, so if there's any sensitive readers out there, you might want to have a tissue handy... _Sniff_... This is the last chapter... Wah! (_Cries on Erik's shoulder_).**

**Erik: _Sigh_, there, there, Angel... Since Angel is in no fit state to continue, may you enjoy this final chapter (_Tries to remove blubbering teenage girl from his person_).**

**_26. Epilogue: The Story's End_**

Comte Elijah Chalifoux died a week after his daughter returned to him. He died peacefully, with Fantine by his side, content with the knowledge that his daughter was alive and being cared for by a man who loved her more than life.

Mere days after his death, Chalifoux was returned to the ground, beside his wife, under the cover of darkness. The old dog was wrong about one thing, though – there _were_ people at his funeral. His daughter and son-in-law, his grandson and his wife and their daughter, even the de Chagnys, the Romards, and Madame Giry came to pay their respects.

Not long after the funeral, Erik and Fantine took their share of inheritance and built a home for themselves, far beyond the reaches of the city. It sat in a field of gold, surrounded on all sides by a thick forest. A crystal river ran through it. In the spring, wildflowers grew in groves by the river, splashing the landscape with pools of brilliant colour. Monsieur and Madame le Fantôme, now simply Erik and Fantine, had finally achieved their freedom.

Eli and Rose continued to live in the caves beneath the Opera Populaire with their daughter. Eli continued his father's legacy as the new Phantom of the Opera for many years. Every few weeks, Erik and Fantine would come to visit their children, or Eli and Rose would visit them. The Phantom Clan could not have been happier, for at last everything seemed as it should be.

Then, in the summer of 1908, tragedy disturbed the peaceful lives of the small family. Fantine fell ill with typhoid fever and, despite the ceaseless care she received from her husband, died early in the fall. Fantine saw her last summer flowers…

Eli and Rose came to that house by the river to help Erik put her to rest. Eli suggested letting her grave reside within the vaults of the Opera Populaire, but Erik wouldn't allow it.

"No one should be left for eternity in that darkness," he had said.

They ended up bringing her back to Paris, where the rest of her family and friends still lived. She was put to rest in the cemetery, not far from the graves of her parents. The falling autumn leaves drifted softly to the earth, covering her grave as they lowered her into the ground. Her tombstone read, simply: "_Fantine Marie Chalifoux_,_ 1854_-_1908_, _Beloved wife and mother_…" Beneath this, Erik had a dedication written: "_Say you_'_ll share with me one love_,_ one lifetime_…"

Erik returned to his home by the river and everyone else returned to the steady routine of life… He returned to Paris only once after that to pay his respects to Madame Giry, who passed away quietly only two years after Fantine.

Erik never forgot his Fantine, or the love that had bonded them through the years. He felt the pain of her loss every single day. He missed her smile, missed that way she could make him laugh. Every night, as he laid down to sleep, he would stretch an arm out to pull her close… but his hand would only touch cold sheets instead of her warm body.

Then one evening, as Erik sat in his chair by the fireplace reading a book, he heard a strange sound. A soft hum at first, then growing in volume and intensity.

"**_Say you_'_ll share with me one love_,_ one lifetime_…**"

Erik raised his eyes and saw Fantine standing before him. Not the old woman he had tended when she was sick, but young Fantine… the way she had looked when he first met her. Her face was still scarred, but there was an ethereal glow about her that made her breathtakingly beautiful.

"Fantine…" Erik whispered, unable to tear his eyes from her.

"_Erik_…_ I love you_…" Her voice was the purest, sweetest thing he had ever heard. The voice of a true angel…

Erik reached out a hand to touch her, then drew it back, shaking his head. "This must be a dream…"

"**_Come to me_,_ where chains will never bind you_,**" the lovely spectre sang, extending her hand. "**_All your grief_,_ at last_,_ at last behind you_… _Lord in Heaven_,_ look down on him in mercy_…**"

Erik's voice caught in his throat as he felt tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. "**_Forgive me all my trespasses and take me to Your glory_…**" Trembling, Erik reached out and took Fantine's hand. As he did so, the book slipped from his cold fingers and fell to the floor. When he looked down at his hand, he barely recognized it. It was no longer mottled with raised veins and age spots. A younger Erik rose from his chair and stood before Fantine.

"**_Say you_'_ll share with me one love_…_ Eternity_…**" She began to lead him away. "**_I will lead you from your solitude_…_ Say you want me with you_,_ now and always_…**"

"_I am ready_,_ Fantine_," Erik choked. His own voice now held a celestial resonance. "**_Anywhere you go_,_ let me go too_…**" Erik silently recalled the first time he had sung those words to her. They had both been so young. Their story had only just begun. Now, it seemed, the story was ending… Save for his son, who would continue his line down through the ages.

"_Elijah_!" Erik suddenly cried. "_I can_'_t leave him now_…_ He needs me_!"

Fantine placed a finger to his lips, silencing his cries. Erik immediately understood her meaning. Their son did not need them anymore. He had found love in his life, as they had. He had a family that would see him through his grief. They had done their best to raise him, and now he was ready to face the world.

"**_Take my hand and lead me to salvation_,**" Fantine sang. "**_Take my love_,_ for love is everlasting_…**"

Erik's voice joined hers in a heavenly duet. "**_And remember the truth that once was spoken_…_ To love another person is to see the face of God_…**"

Fantine led him away from the cold room… into warmth… into light… glorious light…

"**_Love me_…_ that_'_s all I ask of you_…**"

Erik felt tears of joy flow down his cheeks as he leaned down to kiss his wife for the first time in so many years…

Eli found him the next morning, when he came for his monthly visit. Erik sat very still in his chair, his book still lying on the floor. A peaceful smile was etched into his features. His eyes saw nothing. His lungs no longer breathed. His heart no longer beat.

Erik was brought back to Paris and laid in a grave beside Fantine. Only Eli and Rose, their daughter Erika, Raoul and Christine, and the Romard family were left to grieve his loss. Eli had a tombstone erected, but no one knew what it should say. Erik had had no last name, as far as anyone knew… And even Erik himself had not known his exact birth-date… Finally, they settled on the words:

_Erik_

_O_._G_.

A fine carving of a rose was etched into the stone. At the very bottom, Eli requested the following words:

"_Anywhere you go_,_ let me go too_…"

Eli and Rose lived for a few more years beneath the Opera Populaire. In the fall of 1917, Christine de Chagny succumbed to consumption. She was laid to rest not far from Erik and Fantine. After her funeral, Eli sat at his father's old organ… not playing, just sitting and staring… Finally, Rose came to sit beside him.

"Eli? Talk to me."

Eli turned to look at her. "I think we should leave this place."

Rose drew back in surprise. "Leave?"

Eli nodded. "All those years ago, my mother spoke of desiring freedom… I have spent all my life living in these cellars, and I desire freedom too!" He looked at her. "Tell me you feel the same way, and we'll take Erika and leave."

Rose was quiet for a moment. "But this is your home… this is where you were born, where you grew up… Don't you want to stay close to all those memories?"

"You and Erika are all that matter to me, now," he said, taking her hand. "Let's go… Let's take our belongings and go back to my parents' home in the country. Let us learn what it means to be free. I don't want to live out all my days down here in this darkness. I want to see the world! I want to see it with you…"

Rose closed her eyes. Then she gave a firm nod. "Yes… Let's go…"

By the end of the week, Eli had moved his wife and teenage daughter from the cellars of the Opera Populaire into what had been Erik and Fantine's home for so many years. The Phantom of the Opera was dead, and the caves beneath the opera house stood empty and barren.

Eli still visited Paris on occasion. When he did, he always remembered to visit his parents' graves. One fall in 1919,

Eli, now forty-two years old, came to the cemetery on the anniversary of his father's death. While he was there, he passed the grave of Christine de Chagny. Uncharacteristically, he stopped by her headstone. He looked from the grave to the rose in his hands. At last, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a diamond ring.

It had been the first ring Erik had given Fantine, but it had belonged to Christine first. Slipping the ring onto the stem of the rose, Eli laid it on the tombstone.

"My father bought another ring for my mother," he told Christine quietly. "He had wanted their love to be new… fresh… without the pain of your rejection tainting it…" He sighed heavily. "I know my father felt love for you, once… And I believe, until the day he died, you still held a special place somewhere in his heart… This ring is yours… I think, if my father were alive today, he would want you to have it back…" Eli took a step back from the grave and bowed his head. "I vow, for now and eternity, that I will love and care for your daughter… all of my life…"

Eli turned his head to look at his parents' graves. His heart leapt into his throat, for, just for an instant, he thought he saw his mother and father standing there.

It was just for an instant… but he was certain… yes, they had been standing there! But they had both looked so young… they stood mask-less, holding hands, fingers entwined, just watching him…

Then they were gone. But before they disappeared, Eli was certain he had seen his father smile.

The Vicomte de Chagny came upon his wife's grave later that same day. He paused, seeing the rose and the ring that lay upon Christine's headstone.

"_How can this be_?" he wondered. The Opera Ghost was dead. Raoul had been there when they put him into the earth.

He turned to look at the graves of Erik and Fantine. Upon Fantine's grave lay a dozen blood-red roses. Raoul's eyes scanned the cemetery, but no one else was there.

"_Eli_…" Raoul thought to himself, a smile ghosting his lips. The Vicomte de Chagny nodded his respect to the graves of the former Phantoms, and then quietly left the graveyard.

Eli had watched from behind the Daaé mausoleum while Raoul paid his respects. Then he returned to his own home by the river, a solitary life, the last of those who had witnessed for himself the legendary tale that took place far below the Parisian streets, all those years ago.

The story of the Phantom of the Opera still lives on within the walls of the Opera Populaire of Paris. It changed and grew as time went on, just as Comte Chalifoux had said it would. It was handed down as legend at first… then it was cast off as superstition, the product of the over-imaginative minds of the girls in the Corps du Ballet. For the people of Paris, the Opera Ghost was just another great fairy tale – a story to tell one's children at night, to pass on like a lie to spread like a fire. But sometimes, when one enters the lower cellars of the theatre, in that deathly silence and dark, the ghostly whisper of an old love story can still be heard in the cold air…

"**_Love me_…_ That_'_s all I ask of you_…**"

THE END

**Angel: _Sniffle_... Erik, this is the last time you get to commentate on this story. What did you think?**

**Erik: _Sniffle_... It sucked...**

**Angel: Are you crying?**

**Erik: No! I just got something in my eye!**

**Angel: Are you sure?**

**Erik: I'm positive!**

**Angel: Only fools are positive.**

**Erik: _Sniffle_... Shut up... (_Blows nose in tissue_..._ Which begs the question_, _how does he blow his nose when he doesn_'_t have a nose_?)**

**Angel: Well guys, you've all been great. I love every single last one of you and an e-hug goes out to everybody! Thank you to those who left such lovely and often entertaining reviews. May God bless you all! Peace out! Keep yer stick on the ice!**


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